AJJHAINAH: 

i 

A  STOI^OF  AFGHA^  LIFE  . 


• 


' 


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RUHAINAH 


RUHAINAH 


A    STORY    OF    AFGHAN    LIFE 


BY 

EVAN    STANTON 


CASSELL  &  COMPANY,  LIMITED 
739  &  741  BROADWAY,  New  York. 


COPYRIGHT 

1886 
BY  O.  M.  DUNHAM 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


Fress  of  W.  L.   Mershon  &  Co., 
Rahway,   N   .  J. 


DEDICATED 


SISTER  LYDIA." 


2228939 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

I.  THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERAT,      .        .  i 

II.  RUHAINAH, l6 

III.  THE  MOSQUE,          ....  29 

IV.  SWEET  LITTLE  SHAIDY,     .        .  39 
V.  THE  LOVE-SICK  YUSUF,          .        .  50 

VI.  THE   GUILD   OF   THE  RED  HAND,  64 

VII.  BERTRAM  BERNARD,       ...  76 

VIII.  MRS.  HESKETH'S    DINNER   PARTY,  85 

IX.  "  SISTER  LYDIA,"    ....  104 

X.  RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET,          .  119 

XI.  LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT,          .        .  133 

XII.  SHAIDY'S  WEDDING,    .        .        .  147 

XIII.  THE  POISONED  DISH,     .        .        .  163 

XIV.  THE  OILY  HINDU,  181 
XV.  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER,    .        .        .  192 

XVI.  THE  ABDUCTION,         .         .         .  205 

XVII.  LOVE'S  QUESTIONS,         .        .        .  225 

XVIII.  EARTH  TO  EARTH,      .         .         .  237 

XIX.  Is  IT  LAWFUL  ?  242 

XX.  WITHOUT  THE  BENEDICTION,     .  255 


RUHAINAH. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERAT. 

IT  was  in  the  autumn  of  1859  that  Dost 
Mohamed,  the  Ameer  of  Cabul,  was  enjoy- 
ing some  degree  of  repose  in  the  beautiful  winter 
gardens  outside  the  dismantled  walls  of  Jalal- 
abad. 

The  arrival  of  the  great  Ameer,  with  his 
numerous  retinue  and  extensive  seraglio,  was 
an  occasion  of  great  excitement  in  the  little 
town,  and  its  quaint  bazar  was  crowded  with 
motley  groups  of  visitors  from  far  and  near. 

Tribesmen  from  all  parts  of  the  neighboring 
hills  came  to  pay  their  respects  to  that 
popular  Ameer,  who  in  spite  of  British  con- 
quests, had  succeeded  in  establishing  the  inde- 


*  RUHAINAH. 

pendence  of  his  country  and  the  stability  of  his 
dynasty. 

The  Ameer's  encampment  presented  a  most 
picturesque  spectacle.  That  strange  admixture 
of  glory,  grandeur,  and  dirt  which  so  charac- 
terizes everything  in  the  bright  but  weary 
East. 

The  garden  in  which  the  camp  was  placed 
was  enclosed  by  a  high  brick  wall,  and  in  the 
centre  of  the  quadrangle  were  two  chaste  white 
marble  cisterns  into  which  played  fountains 
of  pure  water  brought  from  the  Cabul  River. 
Majestic  cypresses  formed  stately  groves 
stretching  from  the  fountains  to  the  entrance 
gates,  while  trellised  vines  encircled  the  spa- 
cious area  within  the  gloomy  brick  walls,  and 
several  large  spreading  peepal  trees  afforded  that 
shade  which  is  so  restful  and  refreshing  in  a 
parched  and  sunny  clime. 

It  was  under  one  of  these  large  shady  peepals 
that  rich  Persian  carpets  were  spread  on  a 
raised  dais,  where  every  morning  tbe  ruler  of 
the  Afghans,  for  some  three  hours,  received 
embassies  from  tributary  tribes,  heard  appeals, 
and  administered  summary  justice,  very  much 


THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERA  T.  3 

in  the  same  way  as  it  had  been  done  in  these 
historic  regions  centuries  ago. 

The  Afghan  Ameer,  clothed  in  white  flowing 
robes  and  wearing  a  massive  white  turban  on 
his  head,  sat  crossed-legged  on  a  rich  carpet  and 
gracefully  reclined  on  a  large  silken  cushion 
over  which  was  thrown  a  costly  Cashmere 
shawl. 

Behind  the  Ameer  stood  the  erect  form  of  a 
faithful  attendant,  with  a  long  dagger  in  his 
belt,  who  with  a  bright  cotton  handkerchief 
brushed  away  the  flies,  while  a  fair  youth,  a 
slave-boy  from  Kafiristan,  occasionally  handed 
his  master  a  cup  of  sandal  sherbet,  and  an  old 
Abyssinian  bond-servant  supplied  at  intervals 
the  calumet  of  peace. 

Seated  on  the  Ameer's  right  was  Shere  Aly, 
the  recently  nominated  heir  to  the  throne,  a  sur- 
viving son  of  a  favorite  wife,  and  who,  in  after 
years,  played  so  important  a  part  in  Afghan 
history.  Close  by  stood  the  portly  figure  of 
Shergasi,  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  whose  coun- 
tenance betrayed  the  fact  that  his  good  humor 
and  courtly  manners  were  fortified  and  sustained 
by  libations  such  as  were  not  consistent  with  a 


4  RUHAINAH. 

true  follower  of  the  Prophet.  But  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  had  often  been  heard  to  say  that 
had  sparkling  champagne  ever  existed  in  the 
days  of  the  Prophet  it  would  have  been  made 
lawful,  being  so  much  more  grateful  to  the 
human  soul  than  scents  and  women  which  were 
the  Prophet's  foibles. 

A  marked  contrast  to  the  well-conditioned 
appearance  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain  was  the 
gloomy  countenance  of  the  Ameer's  trusted 
adviser  who  occupied  the  left  of  the  throne  and 
who  sat  in  pious  abstraction  counting  the 
ninety-nine  names  of  God  on  his  rosary. 
Afghan  rulers  love  to  do  religion  by  deputy. 
The  next  best  thing  to  being  religious  is  to 
support  and  pamper  a  religious  devotee.  So 
thought  the  great  Ameer.  And  the  orthodoxy 
and  bigotry  of  the  saintly  Fazlodeen  served  as  a 
counterpoise  to  the  erratic  counsels  of  the  wine- 
bibbing  Shergasi. 

In  the  background  stood  some  twenty  armed 
retainers  selected  from  the  various  tribes  and 
held  as  hostages  for  the  good  behavior  of  their 
respective  clans. 

The  strongly  marked  Jewish  features  of  the 


THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERA  T.  5 

Ameer — for  the  Afghans  by  their  own  genea- 
logies are  descended  from  King  Saul — were 
evident  as  he  took  chief  part  in  the  discussions 
of  the  durbar. 

It  is  true  the  ameers  of  Cabul  have  auto- 
cratic power,  but  Dost  Mohamed  had  intro- 
duced a  kind  of  constitutional  government,  and 
consequently  in  the  durbar,  besides  those 
already  mentioned,  were  several  sarddrs  or 
nobles  of  distinction,  whose  advice  was  sought 
on  all  great  state  questions. 

Among  these  privileged  courtiers  there  was 
none  more  honored  and  trusted  than  Abdullah, 
an  old  white-bearded  chieftain,  known  as  the 
"  Rustum  of  Herat." 

Abdullah  was  an  Afghan  noble  who  in  his 
youth  had  migrated  from  Herat  to  Cabul,  and 
who  had  been  a  trusted  adherent  of  the 
Ameer's  cause  during  the  British  invasion. 

After  the  expulsion  of  the  British  he  had 
returned  to  his  own  province,  and  had  served 
the  national  interests  of  his  country  during  the 
Persian  invasion  of  Herat. 

"  Rustum  "  is  a  mythical  personage  in  Ori- 
ental romance,  celebrated  for  his  unbounded 


6  RUHAINAH. 

hospitality;  and  such  had  been  the  generous 
and  benevolent  character  of  Abdullah,  during 
his  eventful  life,  that  he  had  earned  for  himself 
the  honorable  distinction  of  "  The  Rustum  of 
Herat." 

There  had  not  been  any  notable  event  in  the 
life  of  the  Ameer  with  which  this  chieftain  had 
not  been  associated,  and  rumor  had  it  that  this 
Abdullah  had  done  many  a  dark  deed  of  blood. 

But  "God  and  the  Prophet  knew  best." 
Abdullah's  vices  were  all  in  the  uncertain  chaos 
of  men's  minds,  while  his  virtues  were  evident 
to  the  world.  To  look  at  him  you  would  have 
said  Abdullah  was  a  good  man,  good  as 
Afghans  go,  which,  after  all,  is  not  saying  much 
for  Abdullah's  character. 

His  was  a  tall  well-built  figure  with  a  soldier- 
like bearing,  a  fine  open  face  with  arched  eye- 
brows, so  marked  a  feature  in  Afghan  counten- 
ances. His  eyes  had  a  soft  and  kind  expression 
which  seemed  to  belie  his  reputation  as  a  des- 
perate man.  His  beard  was  long  and  perfectly 
white,  and  his  whole  appearance  would  prove 
him  to  have  attained  the  patriarchal  age  of  three 
score  years  and  ten. 


THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERAT.  f 

Abdullah  was  a  man  of  simple  habits,  and 
even  when  he  attended  the  durbar  of  the 
Ameer  he  seldom  added  any  thing  to  his  or- 
dinary white  cotton  turban,  coat  and  pijamahs, 
save  an  Egyptian  cimeter  which  he  had  so 
often  wielded  in  the  national  cause.  The  full 
turban,  some  twenty  yards  in  length,  which 
encircled  his  head,  was  bound  round  a 
conical  cap  of  rich  Persian  gold  lace.  His 
wide  loose  pijamahs  of  white  cotton  cloth  were 
covered  to  the  knee  by  a  simple  white  kurta, 
such  as  is  worn  by  an  Afghan  yeoman. 

When  unarmed  and  pursuing  the  peaceful 
occupations  of  his  village  life  Abdullah  carried 
in  his  hand  a  long  staff  which  added  to  his 
patriarchal  character,  but  when  he  attended 
the  councils  of  kings  he  buckled  on  his  trusted 
sword  and  stepped  as  with  the  elasticity  of 
youth,  for  in  Afghanistan  the  old  feel  youthful 
in  the  service  of  the  state. 

Abdullah  entered  the  durbar  and  walked 
with  a  firm  step  up  the  center  to  the  raised  dais, 
on  which  the  Ameer  was  seated.  The  whole 
company  rose,  as  the  Ameer  advanced  to  wel- 
come the  old  man,  whom  he  embraced  with 


8  RUHAINAH. 

the  greatest  cordiality  and  with  the  warmest 
affection. 

"  Friend  Abdullah ! "  said  the  Ameer,  "  it  is 
our  intention  to  reward  you  for  your  faithful 
adherence  to  the  interests  of  our  person  and 
our  dynasty,  by  making  you  a  free  grant  of  the 
village  and  fort  you  now  occupy." 

Requesting  Abdullah  to  be  seated,  the  Ameer 
in  an  authoritative  voice  ordered  his  secretary 
to  read  aloud  the  deed  of  gift  which  declared 
that  "  in  consideration  of  the  eminent  services 
rendered  to  the  state,  that  faithful  Moslem  and 
well  trusted  servant,  Abdullah  of  Herat,  shall 
receive  for  the  use  and  enjoyment  of  himself 
and  his  heirs  forever  the  village  and  fort  of 
Abukilla  in  the  province  of  Jalalabad." 

The  document  having  been  read,  the  Ameer 
affixed  his  signet  on  the  top  of  the  manu- 
script and  handed  it  to  the  venerable  chief- 
tain. 

As  the  Ameer  thus  made  over  the  old  his- 
toric fort  of  Abukilla  to  the  stranger  from 
Herat,  a  vindictive  smile  stole  upon  the  lips  of 
the  Sheenwaree  chieftains  which  but  too  truly 
indicated  the  feelings  of  jealousy  with  which 


THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERA  T.  9 

they    regarded   the    settling   of    strangers    in 
Sheenwaree  territory. 

Even  the  ascetic  countenance  of  old  Fazlo- 
deen  relaxed  its  muscles  as  he  raised  his  eyes 
and  looking  at  Abdullah  recited  in  a  whisper 
the  well-known  couplet : — 

"  Thou  hast  piled  up  trays  of  various  meats, 
Nor  wilt  thou  with  a  single  platter  rest  content." 
****** 

The  domain  thus  granted  by  the  Ameer  of 
Cabul  to  Abdullah  of  Herat  was  the  pretty  little 
village  of  Abukilla  and  its  old  fort. 

Abukilla  lay  nestling  on  one  of  the  slopes  of 
the  lower  mountain  ranges  which  rise  from  the 
valley  watered  by  the  Cabul  River.  The  village 
consisted  of  some  seventy  dwelling  houses  sur- 
rounded by  a  dilapidated  mud  wall ;  and  a 
small  stone  fort,  said  to  have  been  erected  by 
the  Emperor  Baber,  occupied  the  side  of  the 
village  exposed  to  the  valley  below.  The  stone 
watch-tower,  which  rose  higher  than  the  fort, 
could  be  seen  peeping  through  the  trees  at  a 
considerable  distance,  and  the  two  lofty  minarets 
of  the  old  ruined  mosque  gave  an  antiquated 
and  picturesque  appearance  to  the  place. 


10  RUHAINAH. 

Abukilla,  being  about  seven  miles  from  the 
great  highway  from  central  Asia  to  India,  had 
escaped  the  ravages  of  conquerors  ;  but  having 
changed  proprietors  with  the  expiration  of 
every  reigning  dynasty,  the  village,  its  fort,  its 
watch-tower,  and  its  mosque,  had  sadly  fallen 
into  decay. 

The  hospitality  of  the  "  Rustum  of  Herat" 
had,  however,  made  it  a  place  of  resort,  and 
although  Abdullah  had  but  recently  occupied 
the  place,  weary  and  needy  travellers  would 
often  stop  short  of  the  town  of  Jalalabad,  and 
turn  aside  from  the  public  highway,  to  find  a 
peaceful  halting-place  and  a  hospitable  welcome 
in  this  secluded  village. 

Among  the  Afghans  hospitality  is  the  very 
bond  of  perfectness.  And  the  open-handed  and 
generous  treatment  of  all  who  visited  the  fort 
had  secured  for  its  new  chieftain  a  world-wide 
reputation  which  even  those  who  regarded  him 
as  an  intruder  could  not  gainsay. 

The  chief  institution  of  the  village  was  its 
mosque,  which  had  been  erected  by  the 
Emperor  Baber  as  a  thank-offering  for  journey- 
ing mercies,  and  which  still  possessed  some 


THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERA  T.  1 1 

traces  of  its  original  beauty,  and  enjoyed  a  very 
considerable  endowment. 

The  mosque  combined  in  itself  the  three-fold 
character  of  a  hostel,  a  divinity  school,  and  a 
house  of  prayer.  Its  lay-patron  was  the  chief 
of  the  village,  and  in  order  to  secure  the  relig- 
ious interests  of  the  place  Abdullah  had  forci- 
bly ejected  the  former  incumbent,  and  had 
installed  an  Afghan  scholar  and  poet  of  reputa- 
tion known  as  "  Mullah  Ahmad." 

Mullah  Ahmad  was  a  many-sided  man  ;  well 
read  in  ponderous  folios  of  tradition,  and  well 
skilled  in  theology,  logic,  and  philosophy.  But 
he  was  chiefly  known  as  a  poet.  To  the 
chieftain  of  Abukilla  the  special  recommenda- 
tion in  Mullah  Ahmad's  character  was  the  fact 
that  he  was  more  genial  in  manner  and  more 
liberal  in  thought  than  that  bigoted  specimen 
of  humanity  who  usually  occupies  the  position 
of  village  priest  in  Moslem  countries. 

There  were  in  connection  with  the  mosque  a 
number  of  divinity  students,  chiefly  supported 
by  the  liberality  of  Abdullah,  and  partly  from 
the  endowments  of  the  institution. 

Mullah  Ahmad  was  most  regular  in  the  observ- 


12  RU HA  IN  AH. 

ance  of  the  five  stated  periods  of  liturgical 
prayer,  and  so  zealous  was  he  in  religious  mat- 
ters, and  so  undisputed  was  his  authority  in 
things  spiritual,  that  he  sometimes  applied  the 
leathern  whip  to  the  backs  of  those  who  grew 
weary  in  their  devotional  duties.  Ahmad  used 
to  say,  for  he  had  a  sense  of  humor,  that 
he  found  this  one  of  the  most  wholesome 
injunctions  of  the  Prophet,  so  much  more  effect- 
ual in  rousing  sluggish  souls  than  even  the  most 
fervent  sermons. 

The  only  other  institution  in  this  little  village 
was  the  Hindu's  shop.  The  Afghans  never 
keep  shop.  In  all  Afghan  villages  there  are 
Hindu  shop-keepers.  Idolater  though  he  be, 
the  Hindu  is  tolerated  by  the  Moslem  Afghan 
as  a  being  absolutely  necessary  for  his  existence. 
But  oftentimes  when  the  Afghan  chief  has  run 
up  a  heavy  bill  at  the  Hindu's  store,  he  will 
clear  off  the  bill  by  clearing  off  the  shop- 
keeper. 

The  Hindu  shop-keeper  of  Abukilla  was  a 
tall,  thin  emaciated  specimen  of  humanity 
named  Nand  Ram. 

Any  morning  as  the  traveller  passed  from 


THE  K  USTUM  OF  HERA  T.  1 3 

the  fort  to  the  mosque  he  might  see  Nand 
Ram  seated  at  the  door  of  his  little  shop 
encased  in  piles  of  sugar,  dried  fruits,  salt,  flour, 
rice,  and  butter,  weighing  out  articles  of  food, 
and  measuring  off  calico  to  the  boys  and  girls, 
and  'he  good  wives  of  the  village. 

But  although  Nand  Ram  was  in  Afghan 
eyes  an  insignificant  idolater  only  allowed  by  a 
merciful  Providence  to  live  for  the  accom- 
modation of  the  faithful,  he  was  by  no  means 
an  unimportant  personage.  He  was  a  paid 
spy  of  the  British  Government,  and  the  special 
correspondent  of  the  London  Times. 

Nand  Ram  was  a  well  paid  political  spy,  and 
every  week  he  transmitted  his  despatches  sewn 
up  in  the  sole  of  the  shoe  of  a  native  runner. 
He  had  formerly  resided  in  Cabul,  but  he  had 
been  ejected  from  that  city  on  suspicion,  and 
he  had  now  settled  in  this  obscure  place  so  as 
to  get  his  political  information  and  Cabul  news 
through  the  female  members  of  Abdullah's 
family. 

Close  to  the  Hindu's  shop  was  the  entrance 
to  the  fort  in  which  resided  the  famous  chief- 
tain. A  wooden  door  opened  upon  a  large 


14  RUHAINAH. 

quadrangle,  where  everything  betokened  a 
hospitable  welcome.  Along  either  side  of  the 
open  space  were  picketed  some  twenty  horses, 
being  a  detachment  of  cavalry  kept  up  by  the 
chief  of  Abukilla  in  accordance  with  the 
Ameer's  feudal  system  for  the  service  of  the 
state. 

Facing  the  entrance,  and  within  the  fort, 
were  several  large  rooms  used  as  guest- 
chambers,  fitted  up  with  cots  which  were  every 
evening  supplied  with  quilts  and  pillows  for 
the  weary  traveller. 

This  htifrah,  or  guest-chamber,  is  an  institu- 
tion common  to  every  Afghan  village.  Here 
every  stranger  can  claim  an  evening  meal  and 
a  night's  sojourn. 

Above  the  guest-house  was  a  bdlakhdna,  or 
upper-chamber,  in  which  the  chief  and  his 
special  guests  usually  sat.  The  wooden  shutters 
of  this  apartment  opening  the  whole  length  of 
the  room  gave  the  occupants  the  benefit  of  the 
sun  on  a  winter's  day,  and  of  the  cool  breezes 
from  the  river  below  on  a  sultry  night. 

Beneath  the  guest-houses  was  a  large  subter- 
ranean chamber,  known  as  a  tahkhdnah,  where 


THE  RUSTUM  OF  HERA  T.  15 

the  chief  and  his  family  found  a  cool  retreat 
from  the  intense  heat  of  a  summer's  day. 

The  entrance  to  the  harem,  or  prohibited 
quarter,  was  in  the  corner  of  the  outer  court, 
but  so  screened  off  as  to  prevent  the  eye  of  the 
curious  from  penetrating  its  hidden  mysteries. 
As  the  owners  of  Abukilla  had  generally  kept 
up  the  orthodox  number  of  four  wives,  with  a 
numerous  company  of  female  slaves,  the  zenana 
apartments  of  the  fort  were  unusually  exten- 
sive. Each  wife  having  a  separate  establish- 
ment of  servants  and  slaves. 

The  harem  of  an  Afghan  chief  is  generally 
held  sacred  from  the  prying  curiosity  of  the 
outer-world,  but  there  were  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  female  portion  of  Abdullah's 
household  which  had  become  the  subject  of 
village  gossip.  Abdullah  himself  was  regarded 
as  an  intruder,  but  there  were  circumstances 
connected  with  the  interior  economy  of  his 
household  which  had  become  a  grave  public 
scandal,  even  among  people  whose  lines  of 
domestic  morality  are  drawn  as  wide  as  those  of 
the  Afghan  race. 


CHAPTER  II. 

RUHAINAH. 

new  chieftain  of  Abukilla  was  over 
1  much  married.  Not  that  the  "  Rustum  of 
Herat "  had  been  a  gay  Lothario,  but,  like 
Jacob  of  old,  he  had  been  the  victim  of  circum- 
stances. 

When  a  young  man,  his  father  had 
betrothed  him  to  the  daughter  of  a  Cabul  priest, 
by  whom  he  had  several  children,  the  only  sur- 
viving child  being  his  son  Alak.  Then,  a  few 
years  afterward,  he  made  it  a  point  of  honor  to 
espouse  the  widow  of  a  Sadozie  chief  whom  he 
had  slain  in  battle.  By  her  he  had  no  family. 

And  when  resident  in  Herat,  in  order  to  con- 
ciliate the  people  of  the  city,  he  had  taken  to 
wife  a  lady  of  that  province,  by  whom  he  had 
a  daughter  named  Shaidy. 

And  now,  in  his  old  age,  he  had  been  com- 
pelled to  complete  the  legal  number,  for  no 


RU HA  IN  AH.  17 

sooner  had  he  settled  down  in  his  new  domain, 
than  the  Sheenwaree  tribe  had  forced  him  to 
form  an  alliance  with  the  family  of  their  own 
chief. 

Abdullah  being  an  old  man,  with  a  well- 
stocked  harem,  would  most  gladly  have  escaped 
the  responsibility  of  a  fourth  wife.  But 
among  Oriental  races  a  marriage  is  considered 
one  of  the  easiest  ways  of  settling  political 
difficulties.  For  the  Prophet  himself  said 
"  Matrimonial  alliances  between  tribes  increase 
friendship  more  than  anything  else." 

The  bonds-maids  of  Abdullah's  household 
were  also  numerous.  And  even  since  his 
arrival  in  his  new  home,  the  Ameer  had  pre- 
sented him  with  a  fair  damsel  taken  captive  in 
a  recent  war  with  the  idolaters  of  Kafiristan. 
Among  his  numerous  slave-girls  the  most 
active  little  busy-body  was  this  Gulandamah,  a 
girl  about  twenty  years  of  age,  who  made  it 
her  mission  in  life  to  relate  the  tittle-tattle  of 
the  harem.  If  any  of  the  wives  were  invited 
to  weddings  Gulandamah  accompanied  them, 
and  so  carefully  did  she  attend  to  her  business, 
that  by  all  the  lovers  of  local  gossip  she  was 


1 8  RV 'HA IN 'AH. 

regarded  as  a  kind  of  court  circular  of  the 
daily  events  of  the  harem. 

From  morning  till  night  the  continuous  din 
and  clatter  of  Abdullah's  harem  were  such  as 
to  turn  the  strongest  brain.  It  is  true  that  each 
wife  had  her  separate  establishment,  separate 
rooms  and  servants,  and  daily  allowances  of  corn 
allotted  at  each  harvest,  and  that  Nand  Ram, 
the  village  shop-keeper,  kept  a  separate  account 
with  each  for  her  supplies  of  groceries  and  con- 
fections. But,  notwithstanding  all  this,  there 
were  ceaseless  bickerings  regarding  the  most 
petty  matters,  with  which  we  will  not  trouble 
our  reader. 

In  an  Afghan  household  the  mother  of  the 
chief  takes  the  first  place  among  the  female 
members  of  the  family.  But  Abdullah's  mother 
had  long  been  dead,  and  theCabul  wife  claimed 
precedence,  not  so  much  on  account  of  her 
seniority,  but  as  the  mother  of  the  chief's  only 
son.  And  the  imperious  spirit  of  Alak  took 
very  good  care  that  his  mother  received  due 
honor. 

The  Sadozie  wife  never  really  forgave  the 
murder  of  her  husband,  and  spent  her  time  in 


RUHAIXAH.  19 

turning  her  spinning  wheel  in  supreme  indif- 
ference to  the  affairs  of  life. 

The  Heratee  wife  found  some  consolation  in 
the  sweet  confiding  love  of  her  little  daughter 
Shaidy. 

But  the  real  termagant  of  the  household  was 
the  young  Sheenwaree  wife.  From  the  very 
first  she  had  regarded  her  marriage  with  the 
aged  chieftain  as  merely  a  political  expedient, 
and  the  whole  energies  of  her  little  brain  were 
spent  in  concocting  mischief. 

"  What  has  a  girl  to  do  with  the  counsels  of 
a  nation  ? "  is  an  Oriental  proverb.  But  the 
beautiful  Taj  at  Agra  erected  by  the  Emperor 
Jehangeer,  and  some  of  the  most  remarkable 
events  in  the  lives  of  Oriental  potentates,  all 
prove  that,  in  the  East  as  much  as  in  the  West, 
women,  especially  when  they  are  pretty,  have 
exerted  enormous  power.  Even  at  the  very 
time  of  which  we  write  the  mother  of  Shere  Aly 
was  the  leading  influence  in  all  state  matters 
at  the  Cabul  court. 

With  Abdullah's  young  Sheenwaree  wife  mis- 
chief was  her  mission.  And  as  her  little  fingers 
embroidered  in  gold,  or  spun  at  the  spinning 


20  RUHAINAH. 

wheel,  or  mixed  dainty  dishes  for  special  guests, 
— each  wife  taking  it  in  turn  by  the  week  to 
supply  the  guest-house, — her  little  brain  was 
actively  engaged  with  the  one  thought  of 
obtaining  paramount  authority  in  the  village 
and  fort  of  Abukilla,  and,  if  possible,  in  the 
counsels  of  the  Ameer  of  Cabul  himself. 

Although  six  months  of  her  married  life  had 
not  passed,  there  was  not  a  chieftain  or  prince 
in  the  whole  country  who  had  not  heard  of 
Nurejan,  the  young  wife  of  the  aged  "  Rustum 
of  Herat." 

In  all  her  intrigues  Nurejan  found  a  useful 
agent  in  the.  thin  bony  banker  and  shop-keeper 
Nand  Ram.  It  is  within  the  limits  of  Afghan 
propriety  for  a  village  lady  to  go  outside  her 
harem  when  veiled  with  a  bourka,  such  as  is 
common  to  Central  Asia,  and  oftentimes  a 
veiled  figure  was  seen  at  the  shop  of  Nand  Ram 
purchasing  cloth,  sugar,  candy  and  spice,  and 
talking  treason  and  love.  All  the  village  knew 
it  was  none  other  than  Abdullah's  young  wife. 
Poor  Abdullah !  You  have  purchased  the  friend- 
ship of  the  treacherous  Sheenwarees  at  an 
'enormous  cost ! 


RUHAINAH.  21 

There  was,  however,  one  being  in  the  harem 
who  occupied  an  unique  position.  It  was  the 
eldest  daughter  of  Abdullah,  Ruhainah,  who 
was  known  as  "  The  Maid  of  Herat." 

Born  of  a  Cashmere  slave,  so  it  was  said,  she 
was  only  three  months  old  when  her  mother 
died.  She  had,  however,  been  tenderly  cared 
for  byAlak's  mother  and  had  been  fortunate  in 
gaining  the  affection  of  that  wild  son  of  the 
desert. 

"  Ruhainah  !  "  Alak  would  say,  "  nothing  but 
the  inscrutable  decrees  of  God  could  have  made 
you  and  me  brother  and  sister! " 

"Yes,  Alak!"  the  old  father  would  say, 
"  but  even  in  the  dark  defile  of  the  Khyber 
the  wild  flower  clings  to  the  rough  and  rugged 
rock." 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  two  characters 
more  strangely  contrasted  than  these  two  chil- 
dren. 

Alak  was  the  personification  of  an  Afghan. 
A  young  man,  some  twenty-three  years  of  age, 
of  middle  stature,  with  strong  and  active  limbs, 
a  quick  but  unsettled  eye,  and  a  strong  impul- 
sive nature.  His  dark  eyes  and  black  beard 


22  RUHAINAH. 

seemed  destined  to  effect  a  marked  and  striking 
contrast  with  the  brown  eyes  and  the  rich 
deep  auburn  tresses  of  his  fair  sister. 

Not  even  the  fervid  fancy  of  the  Arabian 
Prophet  had  ever  created  a  more  graceful  houri 
than  this  fair  girl,  who  gave  grace  and  elegance, 
and  even  peace,  to  the  harem  of  Abdullah 
amid  all  its  discordant  elements.  Even  the 
Sheenwaree  wife  grew  tame  under  the  gentle 
and  loving  influence  of  Ruhainah's  dreamy 
eyes. 

Ruhainah  was  a  child  of  nature.  For  hours 
she  would  sit  gazing  into  the  starry  heavens 
and  indulge  in  strange,  dreamy  thoughts  of 
God.  And  as  she  stood,  in  the  early  morn, 
on  the  top  of  her  dwelling,  she  would  look 
down  on  the  valley  below,  and  watch  the  rapid 
flowing  waters  of  the  "Cabul  River  with  a  deep 
yearning  for  some  bliss  supreme  of  which  "  time 
mocks  the  dream  it  never  can  destroy." 

"You're  a  strange  little  creature,"  Alak  used 
to  say.  "  Why  ever  the  Almighty  sent  you 
into  this  world  of  sin  I  cannot  tell." 

Ruhainah  was  only  seventeen  years  of  age, 
but  she  had  for  the  last  few  years  of  her  short 


RU HA  IN  AH.  23 

life  exerted  an  influence  over  her  aged  father's 
life  of  which  he  was  fully  conscious. 

Abdullah  in  his  youth  had  been  a  desperate 
man,  violent,  fiery,  and  revengeful,  but  in  the 
hands  of  his  daughter  Ruhainah  he  was  as  gen- 
tle as  a  lamb.  Indeed,  it  was  only  in  the 
apartment  of  Ruhainah  that  Abdullah  found 
rest  from  the  turmoils  of  life. 

For  an  Afghan  girl  Ruhainah  was  well  edu- 
cated. She  could  read  and  write  Persian  and 
Pushto,  and  had  studied  carefully  the  poems 
of  Hafiz  of  Shiraz,  and  the  Gulistan  of  Shaikh 
Sadi.  She  was  well  read  in  Afghan  poetry,  and 
could  recite  with  readiness  the  odes  of  Rahman. 

Among  strict  Moslems  the  cultivation  of 
music  is  unlawful,  for  it  is  said  that  the  Prophet 
put  his  fingers  in  his  ears  when  he  heard  the 
strains  of  a  pipe. 

"  But  that  was  not  such  music  as  Ruhai- 
nah's,"  old  Abdullah  would  say.  And  the  fond 
old  father  loved  to  recline  and  listen  to  the 
sweet  strains  of  his  daughter's  melody  as  she 
would  accompany  herself  on  the  rebdb. 

How  the  old  man's  face  would  lighten  up 
as  he  gazed  on  the  pensive  profile  of  his 


24  RUHAINAH. 

daughter's  face  as  she  would  sing  so  sweetly 
the  words  of  the  Arab  poetess! 

"  O  rare  virtue  and  beautiful  natural  trait, 
Which  never  will  change  by  the  change  of  estate  ! 
When  clad  in  his  armor  and  prepared  for  the  fray, 
The  army  rejoiceth  and  winneth  the  day  !  " 

"  Father!  why  have  you  not  married  me  to 
some  old  Cabul  prince,  or  to  some  ugly  Sheen- 
waree  chief?"  said  Ruhainah,  as  she  struck 
her  little  fingers  playfully  across  the  rebab  and 
looked  inquiringly  into  his  face. 

"  My  child,  why  do  you  ask  me  ?  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  before,"  she  said  ; 
"  but  this  morning  your  Sheenwaree  wife  said 
her  tribe  were  determined  to  claim  me  in  mar- 
riage for  their  chief." 

The  old  man's  face  became  serious,  and  tak- 
ing Ruhainah's  hand  tenderly,  he  said,  very 
solemnly  : 

"  Ruhainah,  do  you  really  wish  to  be  mar- 

• 

ried  ?  " 

"No,  why  should  I  ?" 

"  Ruhainah  !  I  once  had  a  strange  dream  re- 
garding you." 


RUHAINAH.  25 

"  Oh,  do  tell  it,  father  ;  I  do  so  like  dreams." 
"  It  was  many  years  ago — in  fact,  it  was  not 
long  after  your  mother's  death,"  said  Abdullah, 
with  some  hesitancy,  "  that  I  was  sleeping  at 
noonday  under  a  shady  rock  in  the  Gandnamak 
Pass,  and  you,  then  a  little  babe,  were  resting 
in  my  arms,  that  Jesus,  the  Spirit  of  God — 
upon  whom  be  peace — appeared  to  me  and 
said,  'Abdullah!  that  child  is  mine;  let  her  be 
as  my  Virgin  Mother.'  I  thought  he  took  you 
away,  but  when  I  awoke  you  were  playing 
with  my  beard.  I  have  often  wondered  what 
could  be  the  meaning  of  that  dream !  Can  it 
be  that  you  are  destined  to  live  a  virgin  life  ? 
For,  many  a  time  since  then  have  I  sought  to 
betroth  you,  but  the  fate  of  the  Almighty  God 
seems  against  it.  When  a  child,  you  were 
betrothed  to  the  youngest  son  of  the  Governor 
of  Herat,  but  he  was  assassinated  that  very 
night.  I  had  promised  you  to  a  Candahar 
chief,  and  he  was  slain  in  battle.  And  it  was 
only  yesterday  that  I  heard  the  Ameer  had 
decided  to  demand  you  for  his  son  Gho- 
lam  Hyder,  the  very  day  the  young  prince 
died.  It  has  been  well  said  in  the  sacred 


26  RUHAINAH. 

Koran,  'All  things  have  been  created  after  a 
fixed  decree,'  and  your  destiny,  my  rose,  seems 
to  be  but  to  cheer  and  comfort  an  aged  father 
at  the  close  of  his  long  and  checkered  life." 

"  And  what  more  happy  destiny  than  mine, 
father  dear?"  she  said,  as  she  playfully  thrust 
her  fingers  into  his  long  white  beard  and  with 
her  left  hand  struck  a  cheerful  chord  on  the 
rebab. — "  What  happier  lot  than  mine  ?  " 

"  Sing  another  song,  Ruhainah." 

"  Would  you  like  the  song  of  the  seven  wise 
women  of  Persia  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well  then  you  shall  have  it.  And  remember, 
you  dear  old  saint,  I  inflict  it  on  you  because 
you  have  so  cruelly  brought  me  a  fourth  mother 
to  annoy  my  poor  little  life." 

And  then  taking  her  rebab  she  looked  up 
into  her  father's  face  and  sung : — 

"  Be  that  man's  life  immersed  in  gloom 
Who  weds  more  wives  than  one, 
With  one  his  cheeks  retain  their  bloom, 
His  voice  a  cheerful  tone. 
These  speak  his  honest  heart  at  rest, 
And  he  and  she  are  always  blest : 


RUHAINAH.  27 

But  when  with  tu<o  he  seeks  for  joy, 
Together  they  his  soul  annoy, 
With  four  no  sunbeam  of  delight 
Can  make  his  day  of  misery  bright." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  you  naughty  Ruhainah  ! 
But,  my  little  rose,  those  seven  wise  women  of 
Persia  knew  nothing  of  Afghan  politics.  Even 
the  Prophet  (upon  whom  be  peace)  married 
eleven  wives,  but  they  were  all  marriages  of 
political  expediency  :  so  were  mine." 

"  What !  did  you  not  marry  even  my  mother 
for  love?" 

"  Peace,  silence,  my  child  !  your  mother  is 
dead." 

"  Oh  father !  do  tell  me  something  of  my 
mother,  you  never  speak  of  her.  And  yet  I 
believe  you  loved  her.  You  once  said  she  was 
fair  and  beautiful." 

Abdullah  was  silent,  as  he  always  was  when 
Ruhainah  mentioned  her  mother. 

Ruhainah's  influence  in  the  harem  was  su- 
preme, for  her  patient  lovely  nature  often  made 
her  a  messenger  of  peace.  But  yet  when  she 
wished  to  assert  herself  she  could.  It  was  only 
when  Ruhainah's  feelings  were  hurt  or  when 


28  RUHAINAH. 

her  orders  were  disobeyed  that  Abdullah  troub- 
led himself  to  interfere  in  household  matters. 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  Nurejan,  the 
young  Sheenwaree  wife,  hated  Ruhainah  with 
a  bitter  hatred.  Such  as  only  an  Afghan 
woman  can  feel. 

Meanwhile,  the  tittle-tattle  of  every  house- 
hold and  the  gossip  of  every  guest-house  was 
the  fact  that  in  the  harem  of  an  Afghan  chief 
there  was  a  fair  and  beautiful  young  maiden  of 
seventeen  both  unmarried  and  unbetrothed. 

Such  a  scandal,  it  was  said,  had  never  been 
known  in  the  annals  of  the  Afghan  people. 

It  was  this  fact  in  the  history  of  this  young 
girl's  life  that  made  her  a  subject  of  general 
discussion  in  almost  every  Afghan  family,  and 
had  earned  for  her  the  appellation  of  "  The 
Maid  of  Herat."  . 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    MOSQUE. 

to  prayers  !  come  to  prayers !  pray- 
ers  are  better  than  sleep  ! " 

Thus  in  the  early  morn,  as  the  first  streak  of 
light  appeared  in  the  heavens,  the  silvery  voice 
of  the  village  priest  gave  forth  the  call  to 
prayer  from  the  lofty  minaret. 

The  mosque  was  soon  the  scene  of  anima- 
tion. Devout  villagers  hastily  risen  from  their 
cots  came  straggling  in,  and  performing  their 
ablutions,  prepared  for  prayer. 

The  young  students,  still  heavy  with  slug- 
gish slumber,  yawned  upon  their  beds,  and 
were  only  made  conscious  of  their  sacred 
duties  by  the  stern  and  imperious  call  of  their 
spiritual  teacher. 

"Yusuf!  Shahbaz  !  MohamedGul!  what  are 
all  you  young  fellows  doing  yawning  on  your 
beds  when  the  voice  of  the  Muazzan  has  given 


30  RUHAINAH. 

the  call  to  prayer  ?  Shake  off  the  embrace  of 
Satan  that  beguiles  your  souls  !  Awake  to  the 
call  of  prayer,  my  sons !  "  cried  Mullah  Ahmad, 
the  priest,  as  he  visited  the  cells  surrounding 
the  courtyard  of  the  mosque  in  which  slum- 
bered the  students  of  divinity. 

Slowly  and  reluctantly  did  the  young  men 
rise  from  their  cots,  and  running  to  the  well 
hastily  purify  themselves  for  prayer. 

"  It  seems  strange,"  said  Yusuf,  the  priest's 
son,  "  that  our  Trophet  established  prayer  at  so 
early  an  hour." 

"  Silence ! "  said  Shahbaz,  "  know  ye  not  that 
the  five  periods  of  prayer  are  a  merciful  dis- 
pensation from  the  Almighty  in  answer  to  our 
Prophet's  supplication.  In  the  time  of  Moses 
the  people  prayed  fifty  times  a  day,  and  the 
disciples  of  Jesus  prayed  all  night." 

In  the  dim  twilight  of  the  early  rnorn  the 
stately  figure  of  Abdullah  was  seen  approach- 
ing the  mosque,  and  the  young  students  has- 
tened their  ablutions  to  receive  the  benignant 
blessing  of  their  patron. 

"  The  peace  and  mercy  of  God  be  upon 
you  !  "  said  Abdullah,  as  his  servant  unloosed 


THE  MOSQUE.  31 

his  sandals  at  the  portal,  and  he  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  mosque,  leaning  upon  his  staff. 

There  was  not  a  more  devout  Moslem  than 
the  "  Rustum  of  Herat,"  for  by  a  strict  observ- 
ance of  the  rites  of  the  Moslem  faith  he  sought 
to  atone  for  the  sins  of  his  youth  in  the  piety 
of  old  age. 

Abdullah  soon  took  his  place  in  the  tur- 
baned  congregation  as  they  ranged  themselves 
in  five  rows — for  the  angels  delight  in  odd 
numbers. — The  priest  in  front  facing  the  sacred 
temple  at  distant  Mecca  led  the  people  in 
prayer,  as  they  prostrated  themselves  in  humil- 
ity and  self-abasement  on  the  cold  earth. 

All  are  equal  in  God's  sight ;  and  Abdullah 
the  trusted  counsellor  of  the  Ameer  bowed  his 
head  beside  that  of  Akbar  the  household  slave. 

Prayers  having  been  said,  Abdullah  remained 
on  his  knees  in  fervent  supplication.  Then 
taking  a  Koran  handed  to  him  by  his  slave,  he 
read  his  morning  portion  from  the  sacred 
book : — 

"  Whosoever  hath  repented  and  hath  done 
that  which  is  right,  he  verily  it  is  who  turneth 
to  God  with  a  true  conversion." 


32  RUHAINAH. 

Having  read  thus  far,  the  old  man,  with 
deep  contrition  of  soul,  raised  the  Koran  to  his 
lips  and  exclaimed,  "  O  merciful  God  !  I  have 
repented.  I  did  the  deed  in  self-defence,  but  I 
have  repented,  and  I  have  tried  to  do  with  her — 
yes,  I  have  tried  to  do  '  that  which  is  right !  ' 

Mullah  Ahmad,  the  priest,  hearing  the  earn- 
est ejaculation  of  his  chief,  turned  to  him  and 
said,  "  Do  you  require  an  explanation  of  the 
sacred  text  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Abdullah,  "  the  true  meaning 
of  that  verse  has  long  since  been  engraven  on 
my  heart !  Tell  me ;  is  there  any  limit  to  the 
mercy  of  God?" 

"  None,"  said  the  teacher,  "  for  hath  not  the 
Prophet  himself  said  '  They  truly  sin  who 
despair  of  the  mercy  of  their  Lord.'  ' 

By  this  time  the  interior  of  the  mosque  had 
completely  changed  its  character.  From  an 
assembly  of  devout  worshippers  it  had  become 
a  village  conclave.  For  the  guests  in  the  guest- 
house who  had  risen  too  late  for  early  prayer 
strolled  into  the  mosque  to  pay  their  respects 
to  the  learned  priest. 

Seated  on  a  small  mat  near  one  of  the  pil- 


THE  MOSQUE.  33 

lars  of  the  mosque  Mullah  Ahmad  received  his 
visitors,  who  likewise  seated  themselves  in  a 
circle  on  the  floor. 

It  was  on  these  occasions  that  the  village 
priest  exercised  his  office  of  civil  judge,  or 
kazee,  and  decided  all  questions  affecting  the 
social  life  of  his  people,  according  to  the  stern 
principles  of  Moslem  law.  Questions  of  mar- 
riage, and  of  divorce;  family  disputes;  divisions 
of  land  ;  the  payment  of  debts,  both  just  and 
unjust,  were  among  the  thousand  and  one  ques- 
tions submitted  to  the  good  man  for  adjudica- 
tion. 

"  Zar,  Zan,  Zameen" — "  gold,  women,  and 
land," — Mullah  Ahmad  used  to  say,  "are  the 
three  causes  of  all  your  troubles." 

And  so  they  were.  Although  no  one  was  more 
hen-pecked  by  his  one  wife — for  the  good  man 
had  never  dared  to  take  a  second — or  was  more 
amenable  to  the  potent  influences  of  gold 
than  the  learned  and  pious  priest.  But  as  he 
accepted  bribes  from  both  parties  and  returned 
the  money  to  the  losing  side  no  great  injus- 
tice was  done,  while  the  coffers  of  the  judge 
were  much  enriched. 


34  RUHAINAH. 

The  assembled  group  was  a  representative 
one  of  Afghan  life. — 

There  was  Faiyaz,  the  mystic  from  Persia, 
whose  lean  and  ill-favored  form  told  of  stern 
devotion  and  severe  penance.  There  was  Fateh 
Khan,  an  old  pensioner  of  the  Indian  army, 
who  cut  the  throats  of  the  infidel  English 
at  Ghuznee,  but  fought  bravely  for  the  very 
same  race  on  the  plains  of  Gujerat.  There  was 
Afzal,  a  petty  chieftain  of  a  neighboring  village, 
whose  portly  presence  contrasted  well  with  the 
lean  man  from  Persia.  Meerza  was  there,  the 
village  minstrel,  who  set  the  mystic  verses  of 
Mullah  Ahmad  to  the  unhallowed  strains  of  the 
rebab.  While  in  the  centre  of  the  group  was 
the  prominent  figure  of  "  Hasan  the  Khyberee," 
one  of  the  most  desperate  brigands  of  his  day. 

Abdullah  having  returned  his  Koran  to  a 
young  student,  who  reverently  wrapped  it  in 
a  handkerchief  of  rich  Bokhara  silk,  joined  the 
party. 

There  were  no  legal  disputes  to  be  settled 
this  morning,  and  the  conversation  of  the  little 
group  was  a  general  admixture  of  politics  and 
religion.  The  designs  of  Russia — the  British 


THE  MOSQUE.  35 

occupation  of  Cabul — the  intrigues  of  English 
officers — the  coming  of  the  Mahdee  with  black 
standards  from  the  regions  of  Khorassan — the 
signs  of  the  last  days — the  decay  of  faith 
among  men — and  the  final  victory  of  the 
armies  of  Islam,  were  a  few  of  the  various 
topics  of  conversation  which  occupied  some 
two  hours  in  the  mosque  at  Abukilla. 

"  Now  listen  to  me  !  " — said  Hasan  the  Khy- 
beree.  "  My  policy  is  death  to  every  infidel, 
be  he  English  or  Russian.  '  Fight  the  infidels 
wherever  ye  shall  find  them,'  are  the  words 
of  the  blessed  Koran,  and  I  believe  that  every 
hand  stained  with  the  blood  of  a  foreigner  shall 
appear  with  silver  whiteness  in  the  last  day. 
Think  of  the  glorious  deeds  of  the  faithful  as 
they  massacred  to  a  man  the  proud  conqueror. 
I  can  almost  see  the  look  of  horror  on  the  face 
of  a  pork-eating  colonel  as  I  plunged  this  dag- 
ger into  his  heart."  And  as  he  spoke  he  drew 
his  dagger  from  his  belt  in  fiendish  delight. 
"  Ah  !  ah  !  Abdullah,  the  renowned  and  valiant 
chief  of  Abukilla  !  you  have  vastly  changed, 
my  friend,  since  I  was  your  lieutenant  in  the 
Jagdalak  pass  !  You  had  a  tough  struggle 


36  RUHAINAH. 

with  that  young  captain,  and  if  I  mistake  not 
you  still  bear  the  mark  of  his  pistol  on  your 
arm." 

The  young  students  of  divinity  watched  the 
fanatical  excitement  of  the  brigand  with  intense 
delight,  but  it  was  but  too  evident  that  Abdul- 
lah listened  to  his  words  with  manifest  dis- 
pleasure. 

"  Silence,  Hasan  !  "  said  Abdullah, "  this  is  not 
the  time  for  thee  to  preach  a  jehad.  There 
will  come  a  day  when  the  Caliph  of  Islam  shall 
subdue  the  world.  But  these  are  those  days 
of  unbelief  which  are  but  the  signs  of  the  last 
age  and  of  the  approaching  resurrection." 

All  eyes  were  suddenly  turned  to  the  side  of 
the  pillar  where  stood  a  tall  thin  man  with  a 
red  beard  and  small  blue  eyes,  and  who  spoke 
in  idiomatic  Persian,  with  a  drawling  into- 
nation : 

"  It  was  only  the  other  day  that  I  was  present 
at  the  durbar  of  our  great  Ameer,  when  he  was 
discussing  these  questions,  and  his  highness 
said  that  a  united  Afghanistan  ought  to  be 
able  to  take  its  place  among  the  nations  of 
the  earth.  We  Afghans  are  not  a  feeble  race 


THE  MOSQUE.  37 

like  the  Hindu,  nor  an  expiring  race  like  the 
Indian  tribes  of  America,  but  we  are  a  power- 
ful and  increasing  people.  Think  of  the  glori- 
ous deeds  of  Mahmud,  of  Ghuznee  and  of 
Ahmad  Shah !  and  still  more  recently  of  our 
own  august  master  the  Ameer  !  The  Afghans 
are  a  nation  of  men,  and  why  should  they  then 
despair  of  a  great  and  glorious  future?  " 

"  Who  is  that  man  ?  "  inquired  the  priest  of 
Abdullah. 

"  He  is  a  guest  from  Cabul." 

"  He  has  spoken  the  truth.  He  is  a  man  of 
wisdom,"  said  the  priest. 

The  sudden  appearance  of  a  mounted  war- 
rior at  the  gate-way  of  the  mosque  interrupted 
the  conversation. 

"  I  bring  a  letter  from  the  chief  of  Lalpura," 
said  the  horseman,  as  he  handed  it  to  Akbar 
the  slave,  who  took  it  to  his  master. 

Abdullah  read  the  letter  in  silence  but  with 
suppressed  excitement. 

"Tell  the  horseman  to  ride  to  the  guest- 
house, where  he  will  get  provender  for  his  horse 
and  a  morning  meal  for  himself." 

Then,   taking  his    staff,   Abdullah   left   the 


3«  RUHAINAH. 

mosque  and  slowly  and  pensively  wended  his 
way  to  the  fort. 

"  The  chief  has  received  some  important 
intelligence,"  said  Hasan  the  Khyberee. 

"A  robbery!  "  said  one. 

"  An  abduction  !  "   said  another. 

"  A  murder !  "   said  another. 

"  Zar,  Zan,  Zameen, — gold,  women,  and 
land,"  said  Mullah  Ahmad,  "  but  whatever  it  is, 
the  truth  must  soon  be  out." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SWEET    LITTLE    SHAIDY. 

"  T  T  THY  do  you  look  so  sad,  father?  "  said 
VV  Ruhainah,  as  Abdullah  entered  the 
harem  with  an  anxious  countenance.  "  I  wish 
we  had  never  left  Herat,  for  here  we  have 
nothing  but  trouble." 

"  Trouble  !  My  child,  my  troubles  are 
indeed  great,  for  as  one  of  our  own  poets  has 
said,  '  the  Afghans  are  malevolent,  ruthless, 
and  contentious'." 

"Why  all  this  sadness,  father  dear?"  she 
said  as  she  placed  her  hands  on  his,  and  looked 
up  into  his  handsome  face  with  undisguised 
anxiety.  "  Tell  me  your  troubles.  You  did  so 
in  Herat.  But  in  this  dark  hole  there  is  not  a 
ray  of  light  even  in  your  dear  old  face.  Ever 
since  your  young  wife  came  your  manner  has 
completely  changed.  My  dear  old  father,  can- 
not you  tell  me  all?  " 


40  RUHAINAH. 

"  All,  my  child !  the  all  of  my  troubles 
would  overwhelm  a  little  brain  like  yours. 
You  would  not  understand  me  if  I  told  you." 

"Try  me,  father.  You  have  no  idea  how 
clever  I  am."  And  kneeling  at  his  feet  she 
coaxingly  placed  her  head  upon  the  old  man's 
lap  and  with  a  pleading  loving  look  raised 
her  dreamy  pensive  eyes. 

"  Now,  try  me." 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,  the  English  and  the 
Russians  are  giving  the  Ameer  a  great  deal  of 
trouble." 

"  That  is  nothing.  Let  England  and  Russia 
fight  it  out." 

"  Ruhainah,  my  life,  you  don't  understand 
politics." 

"  Perhaps  not.  But  tell  me  your  next  trou- 
ble." 

"  Well,  then,  the  tribes  are  all  jealous  of  my 
influence  with  the  Ameer." 

"  Oh  !  that  is  of  no  consequence.  I  thought 
only  women  were  jealous." 

"Yes,  my  little  rose,  it  is  of  consequence. 
For  the  hatred  of  an  Afghan  burns  like  fire. 
They  may  take  my  life." 


S  WEE  T  LITTLE  SHAID  Y.  4 1 

"  Father !  "  said  Ruhainah  much  startled, 
"you  must  trust  in  God." 

"  I  do  trust  in  Him.  He  is  Al-hdfiz,  the  Pro- 
tector. I  do  trust  in  Him,"  said  Abdullah  in  a 
subdued  and  thoughtful  tone. 

"  Then  what  is  your  next  difficulty,  you 
dear  old  saint?" 

"  My  next,"  he  said,  placing  his  hand  lov- 
ingly on  her  head  and  smoothing  her  long  tres- 
ses. "  My  next,  my  greatest  trouble  is  regard- 
ing you" 

("  It  is  all  that  young  wife's  doings,"  thought 
Ruhainah.) 

"What  trouble  can  7  be  to  any  one?  You 
know,  father,  I  have  always  obeyed  your 
wishes." 

"  Ruhainah  !  "  he  said  in  a  solemn  and  meas- 
ured tone,  "  Ruhainah !  the  Khan  of  Lalpura, 
the  leading  chief  of  the  Mohmund  tribe,  de- 
mands you  in  marriage." 

"  Well,  and  the  Khan  of  Lalpura  shall  not 
have  me. How  many  wives  has  he?  " 

"Three,  I  believe." 

"  And  how  many  slave  girls?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.     Perhaps  ten." 


42  RUHAINAH. 

"  And  how  many  children  ?  " 

"  None." 

"Father!  I  will  kill  myself  first." 

And  loosing  herself  from  his  embrace  Ru- 
hainah  stood  erect  before  him  and  stamped  her 
little  foot  with  anger. 

"  Listen,  father !  the  day  that  Ruhainah  the 
daughter  of  Abdullah  marries  the  chief  of  Lal- 
pura,  with  his  three  wives,  and  ten  female  slaves, 
that  very  day  she  plunges  this  dagger  into  her 
heart.  Remember !  " 

And  as  Ruhainah  spoke  she  seized  her 
father's  dagger  from  his  belt  and  brandished 
it  before  him,  while  the  astonished  chieftain 
watched  with  alarm  the  excitement  of  his 
daughter. 

Gently  taking  the  dagger  from  her  hand  and 
replacing  it  in  his  belt,  the  old  man  said : 

"  Now  listen,  Ruhainah." 

"  I  will  listen,"  she  said,  as  she  took  a  little 
three  legged  stool  and  seated  herself  close  to 
him. 

"  I  am  listening,"  she  added,  as  she  placed  her 
hand  upon  his  knee,  and  looked  lovingly  in  her 
father's  face  with  tearful  eyes. 


S WEE  T  LITTLE  SHAID  Y.  43 

"  Among  the  Afghans  it  has  ever  been  the 
custom  for  the  closest  bonds  of  friendship  to  be 
cemented  by  marriage.  The  Prophet  (upon 
whom  be  peace)  set  us  the  example,  and  my 
marriages  have  always  been  contracted  for  this 
purpose.  Ruhainah,  my  little  pet  !  I  took  my 
young  Sheenwaree  wife,  not  because  an  old 
man's  heart  needs  another  love,  but  to 
strengthen  my  position  with  that  powerful  clan. 
And  now,  the  leading  chief  of  the  Mohmund 
tribe  swears  eternal  friendship  if  I  will  but 
give  you  to  him  in  marriage." 

"  Father  !  one  question  :  Did  you  marry  my 
mother  for  love  or  politics?  " 

"Your  mother  is  dead.  She  died  a  long 
time  ago,  Ruhainah." 

Ruhainah  felt  her  question  had  been  evaded. 
But  she  allowed  her  father  to  proceed. 

"  My  daughter !  I  must  tell  you  that  this 
chief  is  supported  in  his  demands  by  the  whole 
country.  For  the  people  all  say  it  is  a  disgrace 
to  an  Afghan  family  for  a  maiden  of  your  age 
to  remain  unbetrothed.  Still,  I  am  told,  that  if 
you  refuse,  the  chief  will  take  your  sister  Shaidy. 
The  chief's  sole  object,  as  I  have  told  you, 


44  RUHAINAH. 

being  to  form  a  close  alliance  with  our  family 
for  tribal  reasons." 

"  Poor  Shaidy !  No !  Shaidy  shall  not  be  sac- 
rificed for  me !  "  Ruhainah  exclaimed. 

"  We  cannot  resist  the  decrees  of  fate,"  said 
her  father.  "  The  chief  expects  an  answer,  and 
if  all  that  Nand  Ram  says  be  true,  the  Khan  of 
Lalpura  will  press  his  demands  by  satanic 
methods." 

Abdullah  buried  his  head  in  his  hands  and 
remained  silent  for  some  time.  Then,  spring- 
ing from  his  'seat  he  said  with  great  decision, 
"  Ruhainah  !  Shaidy  must  marry.  The  safety  of 
our  lives,  the  peace  of  our  home,  our  position  of 
influence  among  the  people,  all  depend  upon 
the  step.  Shaidy  must  marry  the  chief  of  Lal- 
pura." 

Ruhainah  was  lost  in  dreamland  as  her 
father  took  his  staff  and  hurried  into  the  outer 
court. 

When  she  had  recovered  herself,  she  would 
fain  have  followed  her  father,  but  no  female 
member  of  the  chieftain's  family  was  allowed  to 
set  foot  in  the  village  guest-house. 

Ruhainah  ran  at  once  to  her  sister,  whom  she 


SWEE  T  LITTLE  SHAID  Y.  45 

found  turning  her  spinning  wheel  in  her  mother's 
court-yard. 

Gently  approaching  her  sister,  and  placing  her 
fair  hand  upon  Shaidy's  raven  tresses  she  kissed 
her  sister's  forehead  with  tenderness  and  said, 
"  My  poor  little  Shaidy  !  " 

"Why  am  I  poor?" 

"  Why,  my  dear  little  dove,  because  you're 
going  to  be  married  '  " 

The  sudden  announcement  did  not  astonish 
Shaidy  in  the  least,  for  every  Afghan  girl  is 
brought  up  with  the  expectation  of  getting 
married.  And  Shaidy's  education  had  not  been 
neglected  in  this  respect  by  a  careful  mother. 
She  knew  well  enough  that  when  the  time  came 
she  would  have  nothing  whatever  to  say  to 
the  selection  of  her  husband.  "Our  fathers 
and  mothers  know  so  much  better  than  stupid 
children  about  so  serious  a  question  as  matri- 
mony," Shaidy  had  been  taught  to  say. 

Among  Afghan  girls  love  and  matrimony  are 
two  distinct  departments  of  social  life.  And 
although  Shaidy's  heart  was  already  held  cap- 
tive by  the  only  son  of  the  village  priest,  she 
never  for  one  single  moment  expected  to  marry 


4<$  RUHAINAH. 

the  youth  she  loved.  To  an  Afghan  girl  mar- 
riage is  not  necessarily  love. 

"  Married  !  to  whom  am  I  to  be  married  ?  " 

"O  Shaidy,"  (taking  her  little  sister's  hand), 
"you  are  going  to  be  married  to  a  perfect  mon- 
ster. To  a  great  big  ugly  chief  with  three 
wives,  and  hundreds  of  slave-girls,  and  all 
simply  because — the  family  of  the  chief  of 
Lalpura  must  be  united  to  that  of  the  Rustum 
of  Herat." 

"  Well,  if  it  is  my  fate  I  cannot  resist  it," 
said  Shaidy,  as  she  resumed  her  spinning. 

"  Gulandamah !  have  you  ever  heard  of  the 
Khan  of  Lalpura  ?  "  inquired  Shaidy  of  the 
slave-girl  who  had  just  entered  the  court-yard. 

Now,  Gulandamah  had  already  received 
sundry  favors  of  the  Mohmund  chief,  and  she 
readily  answered  : — 

"  Why,  the  whole  world  knows  him.  He  is 
a  fine  handsome  young  man,  a  good  rider,  a 
keen  sportsman,  a  most  hospitable  host,  and 
a  brave  warrior.  It  was  his  hand  which  slew 
the  renowned  brigand  Secundar.  Happy  is  the 
girl  who  marries  Lateef  Khan,  the  brave  and 
hospitable  chief  of  the  Mohmunds.  It  is  true, 


S WEE  T  LITTLE  SHAID  Y.  47 

he  had  four  wives,  and  the  religion  of  your 
Prophet  does  not  allow  a  fifth,  but  when  he 
heard  of  the  charms  of  Shaidy,  the  beautiful 
daughter  of  the  Rustum  of  Herat — her  long 
black  tresses,  her  silken  ringlets,  her  bright 
eyes,  her  ruby  lips,  her  pearly  teeth  and  her 
cypress  form — why,  he  divorced  the  ugliest  of 
his  four  wives,  and  now  asks  you  to  cheer  his 
bereaved  heart !  The  chief  is  childless,  and  it  is 
quite  certain  that  from  the  very  day  you  enter 
the  house  you  will  reign  supreme.  O  Shaidy  ! 
you  are  a  lucky  girl.  The  luckiest  in  the 
country !  " 

And  Gulandamah  danced  before  her  young 
mistress  with  delight. 

"  But  how  did  he  ever  hear  of  me  ?  " 

"  Why,  through  me,  of  course  ! " 

For  it  is  through  such  gad-abouts  as  Gulan- 
damah that  Afghan  gentlemen  become 
acquainted  with  the  secrets  of  the  harems  of 
noble  families.  And  at  such  business  Gulan- 
damah was  an  adept.  It  was  in  consideration 
of  valuable  presents  to  this  slave-girl  that  the 
Khan  of  Lalpura  had  become  fully  informed  of 
the  harem-life  of  the  new  chief  of  Abukilla. 


48  RUHAINAH. 

Gulandamah  had  told  him  of  the  mysterious 
maidenhood  of  Ruhainah,  and  she  had  also 
told  him  of  the  special  charms  of  sweet  little 
Shaidy,  which  in  Gulandamah's  eyes  were  far 
more  attractive  than  those  of  the  fair  sister. 

"There  is  not  a  man  I  like  better  in  the 
whole  country,"  said  Gulandamah  coquettishly. 
"  Look  here,"  she  continued,  pointing  to  a 
silver  bracelet,  "  he  gave  me  this,  when  I  last 
visited  his  family  with  Alak's  mother.  Isn't  it 
beautiful?" 

"  Gulandamah ! "  said  Ruhainah,  "  it  is  very 
immodest,  and  very  wrong  of  a  young  girl  like 
you  to  accept  presents  from  Afghan  nobles." 

"  Ah !  my  sweet  mistress,  you  forget  that  I 
am  but  a  slave." 

Ruhainah  and  Shaidy  discussed  for  some 
time  the  proposed  marriage,  and  the  interests 
of  the  expectant  bridegroom  were  well  repre- 
sented by  Gulandamah  in  consideration  of  the 
silver  bracelet.  In  the  meantime,  Abdullah  had 
dismissed  the  messenger  with  a  letter  convey- 
ing his  consent  to  the  betrothal,  and  marriage. 

"  O  Shaidy !  you  are  indeed  born  under  a 
lucky  star,"  said  Gulandamah.  "  The  chief  will 


^  WEE  T  LITTLE  SffAlD  Y.  49 

bedeck  you  with  jewels,  you  will  live  on  the 
choicest  sweet-meats,  you  will  rule  those  three 
wives  with  a  rod  of  iron,  you  will  have  dozens 
of  slaves  to  scold  from  morn  till  eve,  you  will 
recline  on  a  couch  of  sweet  perfumes,  you  will 
listen  to  the  sweet  strains  of  minstrels,  and  you 
will  watch  the  lovely  movements  of  Nautch 
girls  !  O  Shaidy  !  you  are  indeed  lucky  !" 

"  But  what  will  poor  Yusuf  say  ?  "  interposed 
Ruhainah. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    LOVE-SICK    YUSUF. 

"  DOOR  Yusuf,"  was  the  beardless  youth  who 

*  studied  divinity,  poetry,  and  law,  at  his 
father's  feet  in  the  village  mosque. 

He  first  saw  little  Shaidy  sleeping  on  the 
roof  of  her  dwelling  as  he  stood  on  the  lofty 
minaret  of  the  mosque  giving  the  "  call  to 
prayer,"  and  from  that  moment  his  love  for 
the  girl  had  been  one  of  those  romantic  hope- 
less passions  which  so  often  are  the  burden  of 
an  Eastern  song. 

Yusuf,  who  inherited  his  father's  poetic  fancy, 
wrote  whole  folios  of  couplets  expressive  of 
his  undying  and  unchanging  passion  for  the 
chieftain's  daughter. 

Her  "  moon-like  face  " — the  "  subtle  dimple 
in  her  damask  cheek  " — his  "  burning  breast 
kindled  with  passion's  flame  " — the  "  enticing 
tavern  of  his  mistress'  love  " — the  "  nectar  of 


THE  LOVE-SICK  YUSUF.  51 

her  ruby  lips" — love's  "  inebriation" — the 
"  curled  circles  of  her  raven  locks,"  were  all  the 
subjects  of  poetic  effusions  which  the  love-sick 
boy  assured  his  father  were  but  Sufyistic  ex- 
pressions for  love-divine,  and  which  the  fond 
parent  regarded  as  evidences  of  the  deep  mystic 
piety  which  inspired  his  young  son's  soul. 

The  impassable  barrier  which  Afghan  pro- 
priety has  raised  between  the  outer  world  and 
a  chieftain's  harem  would  have  separated  for- 
ever these  two  young  lovers,  had  they  not 
enlisted  the  sympathies  of  a  faithful  friend  in 
the  indefatigable  Gulandamah. 

It  was  Gulandamah  who  conveyed  sweet 
messages  of  love  from  the  old  ruined  mosque 
to  the  well  guarded  precincts  of  the  harem, 
and  who  skilfully  arranged  that  Shaidy  should 
loiter  on  the  house-top  at  the  very  hour  that 
the  priest's  son  ascended  the  minaret  to  give 
the  call  to  prayer. 

Shaidy,  like  her  sister,  had  learned  to  read  the 
Afghan  language,  and  often  did  Yusuf  slip 
into  the  hand  of  the  faithful  slave  girl  impas- 
sioned verses  in  praise  of  the  "  cypress  form," 
the  "  dark  narcissus-like  eye-lashes,"  the  "  slender 


52  RUHAINAH. 

waist,"  and  the  "  ruby  lips,"  of  the  sweet  little 
Shaidy,  who  had  so  enslaved  his  heart. 

The  sad  news  of  Shaidy's  betrothal  to  the  Khan 
of  Lalpura  soon  reached  the  ears  of  the  priest's 
son,  for  it  was  the  talk  of  the  village.  And 
most  anxiously  did  the  poor  lad  await  the  hour 
when  Gulandamah  would  come  with  her  empty 
pitcher  to  draw  water  from  the  well. 

As  the  evening  closed  in,  Gulandamah  slowly 
emerged  from  the  fort,  clad  in  her  blue 
striped  pijamahs,  and  red  kurta  reaching  to 
her  knees,  and  with  a  dark  green  turban  en- 
circling her  head  on  which  was  poised  the 
empty  pitcher* 

As  Gulandamah  approached  the  well,  which 
was  in  the  enclosure  of  the  mosque,  Yusuf 
drew  near.  Secretly  did  the  trusty  little  slave 
slip  into  his  hand  a  piece  of  pink  paper.  It 
was  Shaidy's  love  letter.  Not  one  word  of  her 
betrothal.  It  had  but  a  couplet  from  an 
Afghan  poet : 

"  In  this  world  thou  art  my  life,  my  soul, 
Naught  else  beside.    To  thee  my  life  I  swear." 

Slipping  the  paper  into  his  lesson  book  he 


THE  LOVE-SICK  YUSUF.  53 

read  the  lines  by  the  dim  light  of  his  lamp  as 
Gulandamah  filled  her  pitcher. 

"  Can  I  speak  to  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gulandamah. 

"  When  ?  " 

"  When  her  father  visits  the  mosque  for  night 
prayer." 

"  How  ?  " 

"  Take  this,"  she  said,  throwing  at  his  feet  a 
dirty  white  bourka  or  cotton  veil,  such  as  is  worn 
by  Moslem  women.  "  Enter  the  fort  and  knock 
at  the  door  of  the  harem.  I  will  let  you  in. 
Speak  not  a  word.  But  if  you  are  discovered 
say  you  are  Gulandamah's  lover.  I  will  not 
betray  you.  Trust  me." 

"  Brave  Gulandamah  !  "  exclaimed  Yusuf,  as 
he  put  into  her  hand  the  only  silver  coin  he 
possessed. 

"  Yusuf!"  shouted  the  priest,  who  had  just 
entered  the  mosque,  "  Yusuf,  my  son !  Come 
here !  It  is  not  wise  to  waste  precious 
moments  in  trifling  conversation  with  slave- 
girls.  For  hath  not  the  Prophet  said  that  '  the 
first  sin  which  the  children  of  Israel  committed 
was  on  account  of  a  woman  '  ?  " 


54  RUHAINAH. 

Gulandamah  leisurely  filled  her  pitcher  and 
returned  to  the  fort. 

"  If  I  were  a  chieftain's  daughter  I  would 
marry  Yusuf  and  live  on  love,"  she  said  to  her- 
self as  she  tripped  along  the  pathway. 

"  Will  he  come  ?  "  asked  Shaidy,  as  Gulanda- 
mah entered  the  harem  and  placed  her  pitcher 
on  the  ground. 

"  Yes,  and  you  must  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you 
or  you  will  be  found  out  and  Yusuf  will  be 
killed.  It  is  very  stupid  of  you,  my  dear  lady, 
to  be  so  fond  of  this  beardless  youth.  A  brave 
warrior  of  prowess  and  renown  is  more  worthy 
of  the  love  of  Shaidy  the  beautiful  daughter  of 
the  Rustum  of  Herat." 

"  But  how  will  he  enter  the  fort  ?  " 

"  Now  listen.  At  the  time  of  night  prayer, 
when  the  chief  is  in  the  mosque,  Yusuf  will 
enter  disguised  as  a  woman.  You  and  Ruh- 
ainah  must  be  seated  on  the  roof.  If  he  is 
discovered,  you  must  say  he  is  in  love  with 
me.  A  poor  slave  girl  has  no  character  to 
lose." 

The  priest  seldom  commenced  the  public 
prayers  until  his  chief  arrived.  But  after  a 


THE  LOVE- SICK  YUSUF.  55 

few  minutes  delay  the  stately  form  of  the  vener- 
able chief  emerged  from  the  fort  and  crossed 
the  threshold  of  the  mosque.  He  was  soon 
standing  in  the  row  of  worshippers  absorbed  in 
earnest  devotion. 

Every  eye  was  fixed,  as  the  Moslem  law 
demands,  in  profound  humility  and  self-abase- 
ment on  the  ground,  as  the  musical  voice  of 
the  priest  gave  forth  the  fomula : — 

"  Praise  be  to  God,  the  Lord  of  all  the  worlds, 
The  Compassionate,  the  Merciful ! 
King  on  the  day  of  Judgment ; 
Thee  only  do  we  worship  ! 
To  Thee  do  we  cry  for  help  ! 
Guide  Thou  us  in  the  right  way!" 

Yusuf,  taking  advantage  of  the  occasion  so 
cleverly  suggested  by  Gulandamah,  covered 
himself  with  the  bourka,and  boldly  entered  the 
fort.  Knocking  at  the  door  of  the  entrance  to 
the  harem,  which  was  opened  by  the  slave-girl, 
he  was  taken  up  the  dark  stair-case  which  led 
to  the  top  of  Ruhainah's  dwelling.  Here  Yusuf 
found  the  two  sisters  seated  on  a  Persian 
carpet,  and  reclining  on  richly  embroidered 


56  RUHAINAH. 

cushions.  Ruhainah  and  Gulandamah  with- 
drew and  left  the  young  lovers  alone. 

"  It  is  all  true !  "  said  Yusuf,  as  he  folded  Shaidy 
in  his  arms.  "  It  is  all  true !  " 

"  What  is  true  ? "  inquired  Shaidy,  as  she 
rested  her  head  on  her  young  lover's  shoul- 
der. 

"  O  Shaidy !  only  three  nights  ago  I  had  a 
dream.  I  dreamed  my  sweet  little  dove  which  I 
feed  and  cherish  in  the  mosque,  was  perched 
on  the  bow  of  the  mulberry  tree  which  over- 
shadows the  well,  and  that  a  great  eagle  came 
and  carried  my  little  dove  away.  O  Shaidy ! 
my  life  !  my  rose  \you  are  the  dove,  and  the  chief 
of  Lalpura  is  the  eagle." 

Shaidy  raised  her  large  black  eyes  and  fixed 
them  on  Yusuf,  and  as  she  looked  at  him  the 
bright  starlight  gave  lustre  to  big  tears  which 
but  too  truly  told  the  tale  of  a  true  but  hope- 
less love. 

"  Shaidy ! "  said  Yusuf,  as  he  pressed  her 
closely  to  him  and  wiped  away  her  tears. 
•'  Shaidy !  you  must  never  marry  that  man. 
He  does  not  love  you.  He  has  four  wives 
already.  And  his  mother  is  a  proud  Daurani 


THE  LOVE-SICK  YUSUF.  57 

of  royal  birth  who  will  give  you  no  peace.  O 
Shaidy!  I  love  you  with  love  divine.  The 
poets  have  often  sung  of  love.  But  there 
never  has  been  love  like  mine.  Only  yesterday 
I  was  reading  that  a  learned  author  says  there 
are  two  kinds  of  love.  Animal  love  and  spirit- 
ual love.  Spiritual  love,  he  says,  arises  from 
harmony  of  souls.  O  Shaidy  !  such  is  my  love. 
Ours  is  like  the  love  of  Salaman  and  Absal, 
who,  as  they  loved  each  other,  lived  in  that 
beautiful  island  described  by  the  poet  Jami." 

"  Why,  Yusuf,  you  talk  like  a  philosopher. 
You  will  soon  be  as  clever  as  your  father.  I 
know  this  much  of  love,  Yusuf,  that  my  whole 
heart  is  yours.  I  dream  of  you  at  night.  I 
think  of  you  as  I  turn  my  spinning-wheel. 
And  as  day  after  day  I  see  you  standing  on  the 
minaret  and  hear  your  voice  giving  the  call  to 
prayer,  I  long  for  eagles'  wings.  I  wear  as  a 
charm  against  all  evil  your  own  dear  name 
written  exactly  one  hundred  times  on  a  piece  of 
paper." 

"  Here  it  is,"  she  said,  as  she  held  up  to 
the  starlight  a  bit  of  blue  silk  suspended  from 
her  neck,  in  which  was  sewn  the  precious  talis- 


5  8  RUHAINAH. 

man.  "  Never  did  Zulekha  love  her  Yusuf  as  I 
love  mine." 

"  But  you  will  soon  part  with  your  love 
when  you  are  wedded  to  a  great  chieftain," 
pleaded  Yusuf.  "  And  then  the  poor  devotee 
who  now  worships  at  the  shrine  of  your  sweet 
self  will  wander  in  the  desert  of  blighted  hopes 
and  sit  lonely  in  the  prison-house  of  despair." 

"  How  stupidly  you  talk !  If  I  niarry  the 
chief,  and  marry  him  I  must,  I  shall  never 
love  him.  No  Afghan  girl  ever  marries  the 
man  she  loves." 

"And  yet  you  will  be  his,  his  wife,  his 
slave,"  pleaded  Yusuf.  "  O  Shaidy,  I  am  get- 
ting wild  and  mad.  The  day  you  marry  him  I 
will  shoot  either  him,  or  you,  or  myself.  No 
one  who  loves  as  I  love  could  listen  to  your 
marriage  music,  and  see  you  borne  away  to  the 
home  of  another, and  keep  his  reason." 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud,"  said  Gulandamah. 
"  The  chief  is  below." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  jump  over  the  wall  !  " 
exclaimed  Ruhainah,  running  to  her  sister 
and  whispering  to  Yusuf.  "  Father  is  coming 
up  the  stairs  !  " 


THE  LOVE-SICK  YUSUF.  59 

Gulandamah,  who  stood  ready  for  the  emer- 
gency, flung  a  rope  over  the  wall,  and  Yusuf 
immediately  let  himself  down  to  the  lane 
below. 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  said  Abdul- 
lah, as  he  reached  the  top  of  the  staircase  some- 
what out  of  breath. 

"  We  were  discussing  Shaidy's  marriage," 
replied  Ruhainah. 

"  That  must  not  be  discussed,  my  children. 
In  all  such  things  you  must  follow  the  precepts 
of  your  elders.  Girls  do  not  understand  such 
matters.  They  have  always  been  arranged  by 
your  fathers,  from  the  days  of  the  Prophets  ; 
even  from  the  day  when  Abraham  the  friend 
of  God  (upon  whom  be  peace),  chose  a  wife 
for  his  son  Isaac." 

Abdullah  was  soon  followed  by  Shaidy's 
mother,  a  lady  of  Herat,  with  strongly  marked 
Persian  features,  still  bearing  traces  of  former 
beauty. 

"  Shaidy ! "  said  her  mother,  "your  father  and 
I  have  come  to  tell  you  of  the  auspicious 
arrangements  we  have  made  for  your  settle- 
ment in  life.  In  a  few  weeks  you  will  be  the 


60  RUHAINAH. 

wife  of  the  leading  Mohmund  chieftain.  He 
is  related  to  the  Ameer.  He  is  a  man  of 
mighty  deeds.  He  has  slain  with  his  own  hand 
some  fifty  of  his  enemies.  He  is  a  swift  horse- 
man. He  is  expert  in  the  public  games.  His 
hospitality  is  profuse.  His  guests  are  counted 
by  hundreds.  You  are  a  fortunate  girl. 
The  alliance  which  you  are  about  to  form  is 
one  worthy  of  a  princess  of  royal  lineage.  You 
are  indeed  fortunate." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  him,  mother  ?  " 
"  No,  my  child,  but  Gulandamah  has." 
"  Could  not  Shaidy  see  him  just  once  before 
she  marries  him  ?  "  interposed  Ruhainah. 

"  That  is  impossible.  No  family  of  reputa- 
tion could  allow  such  a  thing." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Begum,"  said  Abdullah  ; 
"  the  truth  is,  that  ever  since  those  English  came 
into  these  parts,  our  Afghan  girls,  having  heard 
of  the  shameless  way  in  which  foreign  women 
go  abroad  unveiled,  are  all  claiming  more 
liberty.  Such  innovations  are  but  the  signs  of 
the  last  times  and  of  the  decay  of  faith  among 
men." 

"  By    Allah ! "    whispered    Gulandamah    to 


THE  LOVE  SICK  YUSUF.  61 

Ruhainah,  "  that  Sheenwaree  wife  of  his  goes 
about  from  place  to  place  with  the  barefacedness 
of  a  common  dancing  girl." 

Abdullah  and  his  Heratee  wife  retired,  and 
descended  into  the  court-yard  below,  when 
poor  little  Shaidy  threw  herself  on  her  cot  in 
an  agony  of  grief. 

"  O  my  God !  what  shall  I  do  ?  Yusuf  will 
kill  himself,  and  I  shall  be  held  captive  in  the 
embraces  of  .the  man  I  hate." 

When  Yusuf,  somewhat  startled  by  his  sud- 
den descent  into  the  road  (for  the  rope  broke), 
reached  his  father's  mosque,  he  lighted  his  lamp, 
and  like  many  a  lover  in  a  more  civilized  country 
devoted  himself  to  the  muses.  After  many  vain 
attempts  to  produce  something  expressive  of  his 
feelings,  he  seized  a  reed  pen  and  wrote  upon 
the  fly-leaf  of  a  well  worn  copy  of  Euclid  :  — 

"  Narcissus-like  I  bend  with  grief, 
Which  haunts  the  hours  of  night  and  day  ; 
A  wound  is  mine  without  relief, 
A  life  unchaste  by  faintest  ray." 

"  Yusuf !  Yusuf !  "  cried  his  father,  "  what  are 
you  doing?" 


62  RUHAINAH. 

"  I  am  trying  to  solve  the  fifth  problem,  but 
it's  very  difficult,"  replied  the  poor  love-sick 
boy. 

The  next  day  Yusuf  copied  his  lines  on  to 
a  fine  piece  of  Cashmere  paper,  and  inscribed 
upon  them — 

"  The  Tribute  of  a  Broken  Heart ! " 

and  awaited  the  arrival  of  Gulandamah  at  the 
well. 

"  Give  this  to  Shaidy,"  he  said.  "  I  wrote 
it  last  night." 

As  Gulandamah  entered  the  gateway  of  the 
fort,  she  was  stopped  by  Akbar  the  slave. 

"  How  dare  you  stop  me  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
enraged  damsel. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  my  little  maid,"  said  Ak- 
bar. "  I  have  important  business." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  There  was  a  friend  here  yesterday  who  was 
making  very  minute  inquiries  after  your  mis- 
tress, the  Fair  Maid  of  Herat,  and  he  said  if 
the  master  does  not  give  the  young  lady  in 
marriage,  a  fire  will  soon  be  kindled  in  the 
peaceful  home  of  the  Rustum  of  Herat  which 


THE  LOVE-SICK  YUSUF.  63 

not  all  of  the  waters  of  the  Indus  shall 
quench." 

"  Well,  and  what  business  is  this  of  mine?" 

"  None,  my  good  little  maid,  but  you  might 
just  give  a  word  of  warning  to  your  fair  mis- 
tress." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  friend  Ak- 
bar.  I  am  but  a  slave,  and  a  slave  is  only 
half  a  woman.  I  do  not  believe  in  dangers 
which  I  do  not  see.  But  who,  I  should  like 
to  know,  dares  to  take  the  name  of  my  fair 
mistress  upon  his  foul  lips  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  noted  brigand,  who  says  he  once 
met  Ruhainah's  mother.  His  name  is  Hasan 
—Hasan,  the  Khyberee,  as  he  is  called." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND. 

THEY  were  a  strange  group — those  five 
men,  as  they  seated  themselves  around 
a  blazing  fire  on  the  bare  ground  in  that  dark 
gloomy  cave  in  the  Khyber.  They  were  incor- 
porated members  of  the  secret  society  known 
as  the  "  Guild  of  the  Red  Hand" 

There  was  Alam,  the  youngest  son  of  a  lead- 
ing Khyber  chief.  Young  in  years,  but  old  in 
crime.  He  was  known  as  the  "  Silvery  Snake," 
being  singularly  skilled  in  entering  noiselessly 
and  unobserved  the  houses  of  English  officers 
in  the  military  cantonment  at  Peshawur,  and 
from  which  he  often  returned  with  enormous 
booty. 

There  was  Baihram,  a  ferret-eyed  man 
of  middle  age,  and  short  in  stature,  who  had 
earned  for  himself  the  sobriquet  of  the  "  Tiger," 
from  his  ability  to  pounce  upon  a  defenceless 


THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND.  65 

traveller  and  rob  the  unfortunate  man  of  every- 
thing he  possessed — this  useful  qualification 
making  him  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
little  band. 

There  was  Khawas,  a  tall,  bony  man,  whose 
jaunting  gait  had  secured  for  him  the  name 
of  -the  "Camel,"  and  whose  numerous  scars 
told  of  many  a  desperate  encounter. 

There  was  "  Solomon  the  Sage,"  so  called 
because  his  long  face  and  ascetic  exterior  en- 
abled him  to  defy  detection  when  he  assumed 
the  role  of  a  religious  mendicant. 

The  fifth  was  "  Hasan  the  Khyberee,"  whom 
we  first  met  in  the  mosque  at  Abukilla.  Hasan 
was  a  truly  desperate  character.  Consecrated 
to  crime  in  his  cradle,  he  had  been  trained  as 
soon  as  he  could  walk  in  deeds  of  infamy  and 
vice. 

Hasan  would  often  entertain  his  companions 
with  stories  of  the  skilful  way  in  which  his 
old  father  trained  him  to  creep  stealthily  along 
the  ground,  or  climb  over  a  wall,  or  waylay 
unsuspecting  strangers,  and  how  his  apt  per- 
formances would  be  greeted  with  shouts  of 
applause  from  admiring  spectators,  as  his 


66  RUHAINAH. 

proud  parent  exclaimed,  "  Ghal  shah  !  Be  a 
thief !  " 

The  son,  now  a  middle-aged  man,  of  stal- 
wart frame,  with  well-knit  limbs  and  devel- 
oped muscles,  had  become  in  every  respect 
worthy  of  his  disreputable  parent. 

"Only  five  of  us  to  attack  the  whole  mili- 
tary garrison  of  Peshawur,"  said  Hasan,  as 
he  took  long  pulls  at  his  pipe.  "  Where  is 
Yunas?  " 

"Yunas?"  replied  Alam.  "  Yunas  is  saying 
his  prayers  in  the  Peshawur  jail.  He  was 
caught  with  a  metal  spoon  in  his  pocket,  and, 
by  the  Prophet !  it  told  more  tales  than  even 
his  broad  Khyber  dialect." 

"Why  do  you  fellows  touch  such  things?" 
said  Hasan,  with  anger.  "  Our  holy  guild  is 
not  formed  for  such  trifles.  Arab  chargers, 
steel  swords,  pistols,  and  muskets,  or  costly 
uniforms,  these  find  a  ready  sale  at  Cabul, 
and  thus  help  on  the  cause  of  Islam.  But 
where  is  Fateh?" 

"  Fateh  ?  "  replied  Alam.  "  Fateh,  poor  fel- 
low, is  still  suffering  from  his  wounds,  nursed 
with  care  in  an  English  hospital." 


THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND.  67 

"Strange  creatures  these  English!  One 
Englishman  tried  to  kill  Fateh,  and  now 
another  Englishman  saves  Patch's  life.  One 
infidel  puts  a  bullet  into  Patch's  body,  and 
another  infidel  takes  the  bullet  out  of  Patch's 
body.  Truly,  these  infidels  are  strange  beings." 

"And  Alak,  the  noble  son  of  the  saintly 
'Rustum  of  Herat,'  where  is  that  young  man?" 
inquired  Hasan,  with  a  sneer. 

"  Held  captive  with  the  tresses  of  his  fair 
sister,"  said  Khawas,  with  a  fiendish  laugh. 

"His  sister!"  exclaimed  Hasan,  "his 
sister  !  By  the  Prophet,  I  could  make  a  thorny 
pillow  for  the  venerable  head  of  the  renowned 
Rustum  of  Herat,  if  it  suited  my  purpose." 

And  Hasan  stirred  the  fire  with  a  demoniacal 
grin. 

"Is  the  fair  maiden  still  unbetrothed  ?" 
inquired  Alam. 

"  She  is  still  unbetrothed,"  said  Hasan,  with 
some  emphasis.  "And  why  that  old  fool  does 
not  give  her  to  some  young  fellow  I  cannot 
tell." 

"  Solomon,  my  wise  friend !  wake  up,  you 
were  almost  asleep.  Solomon,  my  sage  coun- 


68  RUHAINAH. 

seller !  what  say  you  to  Hasan  the  Khyberee 
adding  one  other  houri  to  his  earthly  paradise 
by  taking  to  himself  the  Fair  Maid  of  Herat  ?  " 

Solomon,  taking  out  his  snuff-box,  put  a 
quantity  of  the  unlawful  stimulant  on  the  back 
of  his  hand,  and  snuffed  it  vigorously  with  the 
desired  result. 

"God  be  praised!"  exclaimed  the  sage,  as 
he  nearly  dislocated  his  neck  with  sneezing. 

"  May  God  have  mercy  on  you !  "  piously 
ejaculated  the  other  four. 

Solomon's  eyes  expanded,  and  looking  at 
Hasan,  he  said,  "  You  were  speaking  of  that 
young  houri  in  Abdullah's  harem.  Be  careful, 
my  friend,  for  I  am  told  that  the  young  prince, 
Shere  Aly,  has  set  his  heart  on  her.  But  night 
is  coming  on.  We  have  no  time  for  such  idle 
talk." 

Hasan  motioned  to  Solomon  to  produce  the 
book. 

The  whole  five  then  arranged  themselves  in 
a  circle,  as  Solomon  uncovered  a  Koran,  and 
placed  it  reverently  on  his  knee. 

"Now,  brothers,  swear!"  said  Hasan,  as  he 
raised  the  sacred  book  and  kissed  it.  "  Swear  !  " 


THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND.  69 

"  Death  to  the  infidels.     Lubaikah!  " 

And  they  each  raised  the  right,  hand  and 
exhibited  a  red  henna  spot  on  the  centre  of  the 
palm.  (The  spot  on  Hasan's  hand  was  that  of 
human  blood.) 

"  Lubaikah  !  "  repeated  Hasan,  and  the  whole 
company  stood  up.  "  God  is  most  great  !  " 

"  Ameen  !  "  answered  the  other  four. 

"  Allah  Hafiz !  God  is  our  protector!"  said 
Hasan. 

"Ameen  !  "  replied  the  rest. 

Thus  had  Hasan,  who  believed  in  neither 
God  nor  demon,  made  even  the  sacred  offices 
of  religion  subservient  to  his  own  diabolical 
purposes.  And  his  four  trusty  followers  pre- 
pared themselves  for  a  desperate  deed  of  blood 
with  all  the  religious  enthusiasm  of  a  band  of 
martyrs. 

It  was  in  order  to  obtain  a  fresh  supply  of 
muskets  for  the  Cabul  market  that  Hasan  had 
summoned  the  members  of  his  desperate 
brotherhood  to  undertake  a  raid  upon  a  cavalry 
picket  at  Peshawur.  Being  within  a  few  miles 
of  the  Khyber  Pass,  the  British  cantonment  at 
Peshawur  is  defended  at  night  by  pickets  of 


70  RUHAINAH. 

cavalry  placed  at  short  distances  round  the  road 
which  encircles  the  garrison. 

One  of  the  most  important  pickets  was  that 
stationed  on  the  Khyber  road,  and  which  con- 
sisted of  a  small  party  of  native  horsemen, 
commanded  by  a  non-commissioned  officer. 
This  native  picket  being  within  rifle-shot  of  a 
strong  guard  of  British  infantry,  no  attempt 
had  ever  been  made  upon  it,  but  the  very 
desperate  character  of  the  raid  was  a  special 
attraction  to  a  man  of  Hasan's  tempera- 
ment. 

"  These  English  think  themselves  very  wide 
awake,  but  we  will  teach  them  that  an  Afghan 
is  quite  equal  to  them,"  said  Hasan. 

"Now  our  plan  of  attack  is  as  follows,"  he 
continued: 

"Outside  the  cavalry  lines,  facing  the 
Khyber,  is  a  picket  of  five  mounted  men.  Each 
will  possess  a  sword,  a  pistol,  and  a  musket. 
Early  in  the  morning,  just  before  the  dawn  of 
day,  when  sentries  sleep,  each  of  our  brave  little 
band  must  slay  his  man,  seize  his  weapons,  and 
ride  off  with  his  horse.  There  must  be  no  noise. 
Let  each  seize  his  man  as  he  sleeps  on  his  cot, 


THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND.  7  I 

cut  his  throat,  quickly  unbuckle  his  pistol  and 
sword ;  the  musket  will  be  in  the  saddle." 

"  But  one  sentry  will  be  awake,"  said  Solo- 
mon, the  sage. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Hasan,  "the  sentry 
shall  be  my  bird.  I  may  take  him  on  the 
wing,  but  most  likely  he  will  be  asleep  also." 

Each  man  then  took  from  his  wallet  a  piece 
of  oat-cake  which,  with  a  drink  of  water  at 
the  nearest  spring,  was  their  evening  meal. 
Thus  fortified,  they  started  on  their  errand  of 
blood. 

It  is  a  journey  of  fully  eleven  miles  to  the 
cantonment  of  Peshawur,  but  Afghan  hill- 
men  are  quick  on  foot  and  can  walk  long  dis- 
tances. 

The  little  party  trudged  along  almost  in 
silence.  The  only  weapon  they  carried  was  a 
small  dagger  in  the  belt  of  each.  They  were 
clad  in  a  simple  blue  kurta,  and  had  divested 
themselves  of  their  wallets  and  their  shoes. 

As  they  approached  the  guard,  Hasan  gave 
orders  for  his  party  to  lay  themselves  down  on 
the  side  of  a  ravine  opposite  the  English  cem- 
etery. 


72  RUHAINAH. 

"  WIw  cum  dere  ?  "  shouted  the  watchman  at 
the  cemetery  gate,  in  broken  English. 

"  That  fellow  must  be  silenced,"  said  Hasan 
to  Solomon,  the  sage. 

"  I  know  him,"  said  Solomon,  "he  is  a  man 
of  piety;  "  and  going  up  to  the  watchman,  Solo- 
mon, concealing  his  dagger,  said  :  "  I  am  a  poor 
student  from  Cabul.  I  am  afraid  of  yonder 
picket.  Give  me  protection,  I  pray  thee,  until 
sunrise." 

"  Rest  in  peace,"  replied  the  watchman,  as  he 
threw  himself  on  his  cot  to  complete  his  morn- 
ing slumbers. 

Solomon  returned  to  his  party,  who  were 
still  stretched  on  the  ground. 

"  Hasan,"  said  Alam,  in  alow  whisper,  "  if  I 
am  shot,  take  care  those  infidels  don't  get  my 
body,  for  they  will  burn  it  and  so  stop  my  en- 
trance into  paradise." 

"  Silence,  you  fool,"  said  Hasan,  "  this  is  not 
the  time  for  such  subjects.  Cheer  up,  my  boy, 
the  game  will  soon  be  over." 

Creeping  along  the  ground,  Hasan  brought 
his  party  in  sight  of  the  cavalry  picket  of  four 
troopers  who  were  sleeping  on  their  cots,  while 


THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND.  73 

the  fifth  stood  sentry  with  drawn  sword.  The 
armed  sentry  seemed  to  march  toward  the  brig- 
ands, and  young  Alam's  heart  began  to  fail. 
But  as  the  dismounted  horseman  turned  to 
retrace  his  steps,  Hasan  made  a  "  click  "  with 
his  lips  (the  preconcerted  signal),  and  the  five 
Khyberee  brigands  sprang  upon  their  victims. 
Hasan  plunged  his  dagger  into  the  sentry, 
while  the  other  four  cut  the  throats  of  the 
sleeping  soldiers. 

The  dying  groans,  suppressed  though  they 
were  by  the  violent  effort  of  the  murderers, 
warned  Hasan  that  not  a  moment  must  be  lost. 
He  and  his  four  companions  were  soon 
mounted  on  the  horses  of  the  murdered  troopers, 
and  galloping  in  the  direction  of  the  Khyber 
Pass.  Save  a  passing  shot  from  the  cemetery 
watchman  no  alarm  was  given,  and  the  five 
desperate  members  of  the  Guild  of  the  Red 
Hand  found  themselves  in  Hasan's  village 
with  rich  booty. 


The  subaltern  of  the  week,  having  enjoyed 
himself  until  morning  at  a  mess  ball,  did  not 


74  RUHAINAH. 

visit  his  rounds  until  daylight,  an  irregularity 
for  which  Lieutenant  Boys  might,  under  stricter 
discipline,  have  been  court-martialed. 

Advancing  within  the  usual  distance,  the 
young  officer  waited  for  the  challenge.  But  all 
was  as  silent  as  a  tomb. 

"  You  scoundrels  !     Are  you  all  asleep  ?  " 

"  Jemidar !  "  addressing  the  native  officer, 
"  are  you  asleep?  "  Then  a  volley  of  oaths  not 
put  in  the  most  idiomatic  Hindustanee,  for 
Lieutenant  Boys  had  not  passed  his  examin- 
ation in  the  native  languages. 

"You  dogs  !  You  owls !  You  sons  of  owls  ! 

You  niggers !  You !  Lieutenant  Boys's 

vocabulary  failing  him,  he  went  closer,  and  to 
his  horror  beheld  the  whole  five  native  troopers 
stretched  dead  on  the  ground. 

The  British  guard,  which  was  close  by,  was 
called  out. 

Tommy  Atkins  rubbed  his  eyes  and  said, 
"Just  like  them  niggers.  They  be  all  dead 
drunk  with  opium." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  another,  "  they've  been 
fighting  like  Kilkenny  cats,  and  have  each  cut 
the  throats  of  t'other." 


THE  GUILD  OF  THE  RED  HAND.  75 

Lieutenant  Boys,  the  subaltern  of  the  week, 
mounted  an  English  guard  over  the  corpses  of 
the  murdered  troopers,  and  rode  off  to  the 
brigade  office  to  report  the  affair. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BERTRAM    BERNARD. 

""QEARER,  'peg  lao'  bring  a  peg!  "  cried 
f_)  Garson,  the  brigade  major,  as  he  gal- 
loped into  the  compound  of  the  3Oth  cavalry 
mess. 

"  Rather  early  for  a  brandy  and  soda,  old  fel- 
low !  I  thought  you  were  a  temperance  man  ?  " 
said  Major  Bertram  Bernard,  as  he  sat  in  the 
verandah  of  his  mess  enjoying  his  choti  hazirioi 
tea  and  toast. 

"So  it  is,"  replied  Garson,  as  he  dismounted 
from  his  charger  and  unloosed  his  sword. 
"  But  I  have  just  seen  a  sight  to  sicken  the 
strongest  stomach.  The  whole  cavalry  picket 
of  the  4Oth  Lancers,  on  the  Khyber  road,  have 
had  their  throats  cut,  their  horses  stolen,  and 
nothing  in  the  world  left  of  them  but  their 
dead  bodies.  Killed  like  sheep,  sir !  by  those 
rascals  of  Khyberees.  Smart  fellows  !  By 


BER  TRA  M  BERNARD.  7  ^ 

Jove  !  I  should  think  this  will  open  the  eyes  of 
government  to  the  state  of  our  frontier." 

"  I  expect  it  is  all  that  Hasan's  doings," 
said  Bernard,  "  for,  from  what  my  men  tell  me, 
he  is  the  pluckiest  fellow  that  ever  breathed. 
But  what  was  the  sentry  doing  that  he  didn't 
get  help  from  the  European  guard,  close  by  ?  " 

"  Heaven  only  knows  !  "  said  Garson  ;  "  but 
there  will  certainly  be  an  expedition." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  my  dear  sir,  John  Lawrence 
never  was  a  fighting  man,  and  since  the  mutiny 
they  say  he  is  as  nervous  as  a  child." 

"It  is  certainly  becoming  serious,"  said  Gar- 
son,  "  for  two  European  officers  have  been  as- 
sassinated within  the  last  six  months,  and  now 
this  awful  business." 

"  I  wish  government  would  employ  me  to 
unearth  that  fellow  Hasan.  You  know  he 
once  came  to  see  me,  the  rascal !  I  gave  him 
my  word  of  honor  that  he  should  not  be  seized, 
and  one  of  my  native  officers  brought  him  in," 
said  Major  Bernard. 

There  was  not  a  finer  officer  in  the  whole 
Indian  army  than  Major  Bertram  Bernard,  who 
commanded  the  3Oth  Bengal  cavalry.  He  was 


78  RUHAINAH. 

a  man  some  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  of  a  tall 
manly  presence.  He  grew  a  beard  when  beards 
were  uncommon  in  the  army.  He  had  a  quick 
penetrating  eye,  and  his  mouth,  which  was  small 
and  well  formed,  indicated  much  firmness  of 
character. 

His  military  service  of  twenty  years  had  cov- 
ered an  eventful  life.  He  had  fought  bravely 
in  the  first  and  second  Sikh  Wars,  and  his  ser- 
vices in  the  mutiny,  at  the  defence  of  Luck- 
now,  were  officially  noted  to  have  been  "  beyond 
all  praise."  He  was  a  man  of  mark,  and  all  his 
friends  and  his  enemies,  or  rather  his  rivals, 
for  he  never  made  an  enemy,  predicted  for 
Bertram  Bernard  a  distinguished  future. 

"Take  my  word  for  it,"  said  old  Colonel 
Mangles  of  the  Engineers,  "  that  fellow  Ber- 
nard will  be  commander-in-chief  some  day." 

Bernard's  linguistic  powers  were  of  a  high 
order.  He  had  taken  honors  in  Persian  and 
Arabic,  and  he  was  now  engaged  in  the  compi- 
lation of  a  dictionary  of  the  language  of  the 
Afghans.  He  was  in  fact  "an  all  round  man." 

It  often  happens  that  officers  in  the  atmy 
who  have  literary  tastes  are  not  particularly 


BERTRAM  BERNARD.  79 

good  soldiers,  but  it  was  admitted  on  all  sides 
that  there  was  not  a  smarter  cavalry  officer  in 
the  service  than  Major  Bernard. 

For  years  Major  Bertram  Bernard  had  been 
regarded  as  quite  a  ladies'  man.  But  of  late  he 
appeared  to  have  settled  down  as  a  confirmed 
woman  hater. 

This  strange  transformation  in  the  gallant 
officer's  character  had  been  the  subject  of 
much  interesting  inquiry  among  the  fair  sex, 
but  no  satisfactory  solution  of  the  question 
could  be  obtained.  If  Bernard's  condition  of 
mind  was  perplexing  to  his  lady  friends,  it  was 
still  more  perplexing  to  himself. 

"  My  dear  fellow  "  (he  would  say  sometimes 
to  his  friend  Garson),  "  what  people  call  love  is 
all  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.  From  what  I 
see  of  married  life  in  this  country,  it  is  just  this, 
our  English  girls  put  forth  their  whole  ener- 
gies and  employ  every  artifice  to  get  a  husband, 
and  when  the  poor  mortal  is  married  and  done 
for,  he  is  simply  looked  upon  as  an  individual 
designed  by  a  beneficent  Creator  to  supply  the 
wife  with  a  comfortable  home  and  all  the 
necessaries  of  existence.  The  wife  spends  her 


8o  RUHAINAH. 

days  either  in  England  or  on  the  hills,  while 
the  poor  bread-winner  grills  on  the  plains 
to  earn  his  pay  and  get  his  pension.  My 
ideal  wife  is  a  companion.  A  sweet  con- 
fiding creature  who  finds  no  happiness  but  in 
the  society  of  her  husband,  who  would 
prefer  death  to  separation.  I  know  I  can 
never  meet  with  my  ideal.  Ideals  are  never 
realized." 

"A  sort  of  combination  of  idol  and  slave" 
(Garson  would  say).  "  A  cultivated  angel,  in 
fact.  A  sort  of  Lalla  Rookh,  educated  in  the 
west  end  of  London,  and  yet  retaining  all  the 
simplicity  of  a  village  lass.  A  beautiful  ideal, 
but  not  found  in  real  life,  my  dear  sir." 

The  truth  is,  that  Bernard  had  all  his  life 
been  the  victim  of  the  caprice  of  women.  He 
had  often  thought  himself  in  love.  He  had 
even  contemplated  matrimony.  He  had  even 
allowed  his  imagination  to  picture  a  happy 
home  and  numerous  olive  branches. 

But  Bernard  had  never  really  loved.  Roman- 
tic attachments,  platonic  friendships,  and  in- 
teresting flirtations,  but  not  real  love  as  he  un- 
derstood it. 


BER  TRA  M  BERN  A  RD.  8 1 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  this  fine  soldier 
in  the  very  prime  of  life,  and  in  the  very  zenith 
of  his  military  career,  had  deliberately  settled 
down  in  bachelor  quarters,  determined  to  live 
out  his  days  in  single  blessedness. 

His  small  bungalow  was  a  compact  little 
house  of  two  rooms,  with  a  verandah  shading 
three  sides  of  the  building.  His  bed-room  was 
scantily  supplied  with  furniture.  A  cot,  two 
chairs,  and  a  couple  of  small  tables  were  all  it 
contained,  while  the  bareness  of  the  white- 
washed walls  was  relieved  by  a  New  Year's 
text,  evidently  painted  by  a  loving  hand,  and 
which  read  : — 

"  Faint,  yet  pursuing." 

His  sitting-room  at  once  introduced  you  to 
the  sanctum  of  the  student  and  the  office  of 
the  soldier.  There  were  two  roughly-made 
book-shelves  filled  with  volumes  of  Oriental 
authors,  and  written  in  strange  characters, 
various  works  bearing  on  the  history  of  the 
East,  and  sundry  editions  of  current  literature. 
Scattered  here  and  there  were  Bengal  army 
lists,  army  regulations,  military  account-books, 
and  regimental  returns. 


82  RUHAINAH. 

The  walls  of  the  room  were  covered  with 
pictures  of  the  most  varied  description — win- 
ners of  the  Derby,  the  storming  of  Delhi, 
favorite  hounds,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  Arabic  prov- 
erbs— while  numerous  guns,  pistols,  and  dag- 
gers of  Oriental  design,  artistically  arranged, 
gave  a  military  air  to  the  room  which  its  well- 
filled  book-shelves  seemed  almost  to  belie. 

On  the  mantel-piece  were  portraits  of  his 
numerous  friends.  In  the  centre  a  large  cameo 
of  a  young  lady  clad  in  a  religious  habit,  over 
which  had  been  neatly  engraved  on  its  metal 
frame,  "Who  went  about  doing  good." 

Bindah,  his  old  and  faithful  attendant,  sat  in 
the  verandah  close  to  his  master's  door  ;  and  no 
wife  in  Christendom  could  sew  a  button,  or  darn 
a  stocking,  or  rub  out  a  stain  as  Bindah  could. 
Bindah  took  care  of  his  master's  purse,  and,  to 
some  extent,  regulated  his  master's  charities, 
for  every  Sunday  morning  at  gun-fire  did  faith- 
ful- old  Bindah  place  his  master's  full-dress 
uniform  on  one  of  the  two  chairs  which  fur- 
nished the  bed-room,  with  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer,  and  a  rupee  for  the  Sunday  collection. 

But,  although   Major  Bernard  made  up  his 


BERTRAM  BERNARD.  83 

mind  to  be  proof  against  marriage,  and  even 
affected  the  character  of  a  regular  woman-hater, 
the  whole  female  community  of  the  military 
station  seemed  to  form  a  conspiracy  against  him. 
He  had  more  invitations  to  croquet,  luncheons, 
and  dinners  than  any  officer  in  the  station. 

Poor  dear  fellow  !  He  must  have  had  some 
dreadful  disappointment,  and  it  seemed  such  a 
pity  to  let  him  fret  away  in  that  miserable 
little  bungalow ! 

But  Bertram  Bernard  did  not  fret.  He  felt 
himself  far  happier  than  many  a  less  lonely 
man ;  than  Lieutenant  Boys,  for  example,  who 
was  struggling  to  support  a  wife  and  four  chil- 
dren on  a  subaltern's  pay. 

No  man  understood  the  Afghan  character 
better  than  Major  Bernard,  and  his  well-known 
hospitality  had  given  him  a  reputation  through- 
out the  whole  of  Central  Asia.  Afghans  came 
to  visit  him  from  all  parts ;  and  on  one  occa- 
sion, as  we  have  already  remarked,  he  had  en- 
tertained the  renowned  brigand  Hasan  the 
Khyberee,  so  thoroughly  was  the  word  and 
honor  of  this  cavalry  officer  trusted  even  by 
half-civilized  races. 


84  KUHAINAH. 

Bernard  was  not  a  religious  man  in  the  usual 
acceptance  of  the  term,  and  yet  there  were  few 
men  who  thought  more  deeply  on  religion 
than  he. 

"  I  wish,"  he  would  often  say,  "  I  could  take 
my  religion  more  in  the  spirit  of  a  little  child. 
With  all  the  problems  of  life  before  me,  and 
the  vast  field  of  research  now  open  to  us,  it  is 
impossible  for  a  man  constituted  as  I  am,  not 
to  have  serious  doubts  and  difficulties.  I  have 
to  -hammer  out  a  creed  for  myself,  and  have 
not  one  ready  made  like  some  people." 

And  yet  Major  Bertram  Bernard  was  a 
regular  church-goer,  for  the  chaplain's  sermons 
were  short,  and  he  admired  the  structure  and 
the  spirit  of  the  liturgy. 

Those  who  knew  Major  Bernard  best  had 
observed  a  marked  change  in  his  religious 
feelings  since  his  recent  visit  to  England. 

"  I  take  life  more  seriously  than  I  used  to 
do,"  he  often  said,  as  he  looked  at  the  cameo 
portrait  over  the  mantel-piece. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY. 

"  A   MY,  you  must  include  Major  Bernard  in 
£\     your  list,"  said  Mr.  Hesketh  to  his  wife 
as  she  sat  at  her  table  writing  invitations  for 
her  next  dinner  party. 

"It  is  not  the  least  use,  for  he  always 
declines." 

"  I  will  drop  him  a  line  as  well,"  said  Hesketh, 
"if  you  will  enclose  it  in  yours,  for  I  am  anxious 
to  see  him  !  " 

Mr.  Hesketh,  the  chief  civil  officer  at 
Peshawur,  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  DEAR  BERNARD.— Mrs.  Hesketh  is  inviting 
you  to  join  our  party  on  Monday  evening. 
Do  come  if  you  can,  for  I  want  to  have  a 
chat  about  that  picket  business  ;  and  as  I  am. 
going  out  in  the  district  I  shall  not  be  back 
until  Monday  evening. 

"Yours  Sincerely, 

"HENRY  HESKETH." 


86  RUHAINAH. 

Mrs.  Hesketh's  note  was  not  the  ordinary 
invitation,  for  she  seldom  sent  formal  letters  to 
her  special  favorites.  It  ran  thus  :  — 

"  I  almost  despair  of  getting  you  to  our  din- 
ner party  on  Monday,  my  dear  Major  Bernard, 
but  the  general  is  coming  and  my  husband 
wants  to  talk  state  secrets.  Do  give  us  the 
pleasure  of  your  company  at  half  past  seven 
o'  clock,  and  forsake  that  horrid  Pushto 
dictionary  for  once  to  enjoy  the  society  of 
your  fellow  creatures,  and  to  spend  a  pleasant 
evening ! 

"  Sincerely  Yours, 

"AMY  HESKETH. 

"  P.  S.  Come  early  and  you  can  have  your 
chat  before  the  general  comes.  I  hate 
politics !  " 

"  That  woman  again !  "  exclaimed  Bernard,  as 
he  read  the  letter.  "  I  suppose  I  can't  get  out 
of  it  this  time,  or  I  shall  offend  Hesketh." 

The  Commissioner  of  Peshawur  was  Sir 
Herbert  Edwardes,  a  man  of  great  reputation 
both  as  a  soldier  and  a  statesman,  but  Sir 
Herbert  being  on  furlough,  Mr.  Hesketh,  who 
had  a  brother  in  the'  India  office,  was  sent  to 


MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.         87 

officiate.  Hesketh  was  a  most  incompetent 
man  for  the  post,  for  he  understood  less  of 
frontier  politics  than  even  the  Secretary  of  State 
for  India.  Nor  could  he  speak  a  single  word 
of  the  Afghan  language. 

It  was  Hesketh's  absolute  ignorance  of 
Afghan  affairs  that  made  him  so  anxious  to 
see  Bernard,  whose  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  Afghans  and  their  language  made  him  a 
great  authority  on  all  Central  Asian  questions. 

Fully  alive  to  her  husband's  deficiencies, 
Amy  Hesketh  was  determined  to  make  up  for 
them  by  attracting  to  herself  the  most  able 
and  useful  men,  and  thus  bring  her  husband  in 
contact  with  those  who  could  give  him  the 
very  best  information  and  the  soundest  advice. 

It  was  Mrs.  Hesketh's  sole  ambition  to 
figure,  some  day  or  other,  in  the  court  circular 
as  "  Lady  Hesketh,"  and  she  was  determined 
by  some  means  to  secure  for  her  husband  a 
"  K.  C.  B.",  during  his  brief  period  of  office 
at  this  important  military  outpost. 

Amy  Hesketh  was  a  tall  graceful  woman, 
thirty  years  of  age,  of  the  highest  intellectual 
attainments,  and  thoroughly  accomplished. 


88  RUHAINAH. 

She  could  play,  draw,  paint  and  etch.  Nature 
had  endowed  her  with  a  rich  voice,  and  she 
was  a  well  trained  and  cultivated  singer.  From 
her  childhood  she  had  been  a  good  rider,  and 
there  was  not  a  more  spirited  follower  of  the 
"  Peshawur  Vale  hounds"  than  the  wife  of  the 
officiating  Commissioner  of  Peshawur. 

But  Amy  Hesketh's  special  forte  was  flirta- 
tion. It  was  said  she  was  a  "  born  flirt."  We 
should  rather  say  she  was  an  accomplished  flirt. 
With  her  it  was  a  studied  science. 

Amy  Hesketh  flirted  for  several  reasons. 
First,  she  really  liked  the  sensation  of  flirting, 
that  indescribable  "  something"  which  makes 
love-making  pleasant.  Then,  it  flattered  her 
own  vanity  to  see  men  put  forth  the  most 
strenuous  exertions  and  waste  the  most  valuable 
time  merely  just  to  get  a  loving  look  or  a 
gentle  touch.  But  Mrs.  Hesketh  was  not  one 
of  those  stupid  little  flirts  who  are  forever 
getting  into  trouble.  She  saw  in  the  wise  and 
discreet  use  of  this  fascinating  accomplishment 
the  very  easiest  means  of  obtaining  the  one 
object  of  her  life :  advancement  in  the  social 
scale. 


MRS,  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.         89 

"What  fools  men  are,"  she  would  often  say 
as  she  recounted  her  many  little  victories. 

When  at  Simla  last  summer  she  had  com- 
pletely captivated  the  commander-in-chief,  and 
it  was  well  known  that  one  word  from  Mrs. 
Hesketh  would  go  further  with  Sir  Leigh 
Stover  than  whole  piles  of  credentials. 

"  By  Jove !  there  is  not  a  thing  I  wouldn't 
do  for  that  woman,"  his  excellency  was  often 
heard  to  say.  And  Sir  Leigh  simply  spoke  the 
honest  truth.  He  was  as  fine  an  old  soldier  as 
ever  stepped,  but  he  was  the  veriest  coward  in 
the  hands  of  a  pretty  woman. 

Mr.  Hesketh's  brother  civilians  all  declared 
that  he  got  his  present  appointment  entirely 
through  his  brother's  influence  at  the  India 
office,  but  Sir  Leigh  Stover  knew  better  than 
that.  So  did  Amy  Hesketh. 

The  dinner  party  to  which  Bertram  Bernard 
was  invited  was,  as  we  have  said,  specially 
given  to  the  major-general  commanding  the 
division. 

Monday  evening  came,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hesketh  awaited  the  arrival  of  their  guests. 
Two  native  orderlies  paced  the  verandah  to 


90  RUHAINAH. 

give  dignity  to  the  occasion,  while  the  sardar, 
or  chief  native  servant,  stood  ready  to  take  the 
shawls,  rampur  chaders,  and  cloaks,  as  the 
guests  arrived. 

The  tall  graceful  form  of  Mrs.  Hesketh 
contrasted  strangely  with  the  short  insignificant 
figure  of  her  husband.  But  Mr.  Hesketh's 
pleasing  and  gentlemanly  bearing  compensated, 
somewhat,  for  the  absence  of  nature's  gifts,  and 
showed  clearly  that  he  was  not  only  a  man  of 
education,  but  also  of  good  breeding  and 
refinement. 

Mr.  Hesketh  received  his  guests  in  a  small 
ante-room,  and  taking  each  lady  on  his  arm  upon 
her  arrival  presented  her  to  his  wife,  who  stood 
graceful  and  queenly  by  the  wood  fire  which 
blazed  on  the  hearth. 

First  came  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Drayton,  of  the 
uncovenanted  service.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Drayton  belonged  to  two  of  the  best  families 
in  Ireland,  Mr.  Drayton  being  the  grandson 
of  an  Irish  earl,  but  being  "  uncovenanted  " 
they  were  but  on  the  fringe  of  the  charmed 
circle  of  Anglo-Indian  society,  taking  their 
social  standing  with  quartermasters,paymasters, 


MRS.  HESKE TH ' S  DINNER  PARTY.         91 

and  members  of  the  police,  salt,  and  telegraph 
departments. 

Mrs.  Hesketh  received  them  most  kindly. 
She  liked  blue  blood.  Besides,  she  was  fond  of 
patronizing  small  folks,  especially  when  those 
small  folks  were  reduced  nobility. 

Mrs.  Hesketh  took  intense  interest  in  Mrs. 
Drayton's  baby,  for  she  had  none  of  her  own, 
and  she  affected  to  share  the  anxieties  of  the 
young  and  inexperienced  mother  who  had  left 
her  helpless  babe  to  the  care  of  a  native  ayah. 

"  You  know  these  native  women  have  a 
horrid  way  of  giving  opium  to  babies  when 
they  are  restless."  A  piece  of  information 
which  served  but  to  increase  the  poor  mother's 
anxieties,  for  her  child  was  teething. 

Amy  Hesketh  was  about  to  soothe  Mrs. 
Drayton's  fears,  when  Mr.  Hesketh  brought  in 
Mrs.  Lawson,  followed  by  her  husband,  Colonel 
Lawson,  of  the  commissariat  department. 

Mrs.  Lawson  was  the  religious  light  of 
Peshawur.  She  thought  so  herself,  and  the 
world  took  her  at  her  own  valuation.  Mrs. 
Lawson  kept  a  mental  record  of  the  religious 
condition  of  her  neighbors  and  divided  them 


92  RUHAINAH. 

all  into  "  the  saved  "  and  "  the  unsaved  "  : 
the  "  worldly  "  and  the  "  Christian  ". 

Mrs.  Lawson  from  the  first  time  she  met 
Amy  Hesketh  at  Simla  had  quite  decided  that 
she  was  an  "  unsaved  woman  ". 

Such  a  consummate  flirt  could  never  enter 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  !  Others  thought  so 
too  besides  the  wife  of  the  commissariat 
officer.  And  yet  there  were  perhaps  few  chil- 
dren of  darkness  who  had  been  called  "  an 
angel  "  as  often  as  poor  Amy  Hesketh.  Mrs. 
Lawson's  s/ieot  was  well  filled,  and  she  seemed 
to  derive  some  comfort  from  so  ghastly  a  con- 
templation. 

Mrs.  Lawson  was  Mrs.  Hesketh's  abomina- 
tion. "  That  woman's  virtues  consist  simply 
in  the  absence  of  temptation  !  "  Mrs.  Hesketh 
often  said.  "  Or  perhaps  her  virtues  are  but 
vice  worn  out,"  said  Sir  Leigh  Stover  when 
he  came  under  Mrs.  Lawson's  heavy  condem- 
nation at  Simla. 

The  civil  surgeon,  Dr.  Bubbles,  next  arrived. 
He  was  a  big  portly  man  with  a  red  face,  and 
had,  as  is  generally  the  case,  a  meek  quiet  little 
wife.  In  addition  to  his  medical  duties  he 


MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.        93 

had  charge  of  the  jail.  He  was  a  better  jailer 
than  a  doctor,  so  most  people  said. 

Then  came  Major  Lawry  of  the  Royal  Horse 
Artillery,  Mrs.  Hesketh's  special  favorite. 
Lawry  was  anything  but  a  handsome  man. 
His  height  was  decidedly  below  the  average. 
His  face  lacked  expression.  But  he  was  a 
decided  favorite  among  both  men  and  women. 
He  was  a  good  listener.  He  had  always 
on  his  expressionless  face  a  good  humored 
smile  which  meant  anything  you  please,  and 
he  was  master  of  the  Peshawur  Vale  hounds 
and  was  always  ready  with  a  good  foxy 
song. 

"  Major  Lawry,"  whispered  his  fair  hostess, 
"  I  am  so  sorry  you  will  not  sit  next  me  this  even- 
ing, but  my  husband  says  I  must  give  you  all 
your  proper  places  as  the  general  is  here.  I 
hate  official  etiquette,  don't  you  ?"  The  kind 
and  responsive  pressure  of  Mrs.  Hesketh's  ten- 
der hand  was  assuring,  and  the  major  smiled,  as 
he  always  did. 

The  guests  now  began  to  arrive  in  quick  suc- 
cession.— The  Reverend  J.  B.  Brown,  the 
station  chaplain.  An  inoffensive  sort  of  man 


94  RUHAINAH. 

who  did  his  duty  like  a  Christian,  but  who  had 
not  yet  been  enrolled  on  Mrs.  Lawson's  list  of 
saints.  There  was  not  enough  brimstone  in 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Brown's  sermons  to  suit  Mrs. 
Lawson's  theology. 

Next  came  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Noble,  of  Her 
Majesty's  I  loth  Regiment,  just  arrived  from 
England,  with  a  very  strong  aversion  to  Anglo- 
Indian  customs. 

Then  Captain  and  Mrs.  Tompkins,  lately  mar- 
ried. Edith  Tompkins  was  a  pretty  girl  who 
had  left  the  quiet  retirement  of  a  country  rec- 
tory in  England.  She  was  quite  nervous  at 
the  thought  of  meeting  a  live  "  major-general," 
for  it  was  her  first  dinner  party,  and  she  had  not 
been  used  to  military  society. 

Mrs.  Lawson  saw  in  the  innocent  beauty  a 
possible  convert,  and  was  kind  and  gracious. 
Amy  Hesketh  saw  a  possible  rival,  and  was 
cynical  and  stiff. 

The  general  was  late.  Sir  Hugh  Staley 
usually  was  at  dinner,  although  never  at 
parade. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  Sir  Hugh  ;  how 
well  you  are  looking !  "  said  Mrs.  Hesketh  as 


MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.         95 

the  old  hero  marched  with  a  military  air  into 
the  drawing  room  with  his  little  aide-de-camp 
Perkins  close  behind  him. 

The  gallant  old  man  held  the  hand  of  his 
kind  hostess  until  he  received  the  usual  respon- 
sive pressure.  "There!  isn't  that  a  splendid 
rose,  Mrs.  Hesketh.  I  grafted  the  tree  in  my 
own  garden.  You  can  get  as  good  roses  in 
this  part  of  the  world  as  in  any  place  I 
know." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  general.  How  very  kind 
of  you,"  she  said  as  she  smelt  the  rose — (the  old 
fool  thought  she  kissed  it) —  "how  good  of  you 
to  think  of  me ! "  And  she  placed  it  in  her 
bosom. 

"  Khanah  mezpar  " — "  dinner  is  on  the  table," 
shouted  a  native  servant  standing  at  the  dining- 
room  door,  just  as  the  gallant  general  was  sip- 
ping his  sherry  bitters. 

"We  cannot  wait  for  Major  Bernard,"  said 
Mrs.  Hesketh  somewhat  angrily,  "  I  hardly 
expected  he  would  come." 

She  had  scarcely  finished  the  sentence,  when 
the  native  orderly  announced  "the  Major 
Sahib." 


96  RUHAINAH. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  I  am  late,  Mrs.  Hesketh,  but 
one  of  my  men  was  dying,  and  I  could  not  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  refuse  to  see  the  poor  fellow 
when  he  sent  for  me." 

"Is  he  dead?" 

"Yes,  he  died  in  my  arms.  He  was  an 
Afghan  of  the  Yusafzai  district,  from  which  I 
think  we  get  our  best  recruits,  a  faithful  man 
who  saved  my  life  in  the  mutiny." 

Mr.  Hesketh  gave  Mrs.  Noble,  as  the  senior 
lady,  his  arm  and  led  the  way ;  pretty  Mrs. 
Tompkins  fell  to  the  lot  of  Major  Bertram, 
while  Mrs.  Hesketh  leaning  on  the  general's 
arm  brought  up  the  rear. 

"A  good  fellow  that  Major  Bernard.  He  is 
perfectly  adored  by  his  men,"  said  the  general 
in  an  undertone. 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  said  Mrs.  Hesketh  ;  "  but  as 
an  officer  commanding  a  crack  regiment,  I 
think  he  ought  to  give  a  little  more  of  his  time 
to  social  duties." 

The  whole  company  having  taken  their 
places  at  the  dinner-table,  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Brown  said  a  short  grace  (brevity  always  char- 
acterized the  reverend  gentleman's  religious 


MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.         g^ 

duties),  and  the  native  attendants  handed  round 
the  soup.  Major  Bernard  found  a  pleasing 
companion  in  Mrs.  Tompkins.  Her  unaffected 
manners  perfectly  charmed  him. 

"  A  great  change  this  military  life  from  your 
quiet  country  rectory,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  and  I  am  still  a  little  homesick,  but 
you  all  seem  very  kind  and  sociable." 

"  It  is  very  gracious  of  you  to  say  so,  Mrs. 
Tompkins,"  he  replied,  "  for  I  am  just  re- 
minded that  I  have  never  yet  called  upon  you." 

"  You  must  be  very  busy?  " 

"Yes,  I  am.  For  I  try  to  take  a  personal 
interest  in  my  men,  and  I  am  now  giving  some 
time  to  the  study  of  Pushto." 

"  What  is  Pushto  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  language  spoken  by  the  Afghans." 

"Is  it  difficult?" 

"The  pronunciation  is  exceedingly  difficult. 
I  once  asked  one  of  my  men  what  it  was  like, 
and  he  put  a  number  of  pebbles  in  an  earthen 
pot  and  rattled  it.  '  Pushto  sounds  like  that,' 
he  said." 

"  You  were  all  through  the  mutiny,  were 
you  not?  " 


98  RUHAINAH. 

"  Yes.  I  was  at  Lucknow  under  that  splen- 
did fellow,  Henry  Lawrence." 

"  I  think  you  said  that  poor  man  who  died 
saved  your  life  ?  " 

"Yes.  He  actually  threw  himself  over  me, 
and  received  the  sword  cut  intended  for  me." 

"  How  noble  of  him  !  " 

"  Many  of  them  are  very  noble  fellows. 
They  are  a  nation  of  men,  and  I  believe  are 
yet  destined  to  play  an  important  part  in  the 
world's  history,  even  as  they  have  done  in  the 
past.  And  yet  many  of  them  are  perfect  sav- 
ages." 

"  Major  Bernard !  "  said  Mrs.  Hesketh,  who 
sat  opposite,  and  who  felt  she  was  being  some- 
what ignored  under  the  fascinating  influences 
of  the  country  rector's  daughter.  "  Major 
Bernard  !  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question.  You 
are  so  clever,  and  know  all  about  these  strange 
Afghans.  Is  it  true  they  can  divorce  their 
wives  at  a  moment's  notice?  " 

(Mrs.  Lawson  looked  agonies.) 

"  Yes,  it  is  quite  true.  If  a  husband  even  raises 
his  three  fingers  or  drops  three  stones,  or  even 
says  the  words  three  times,  his  wife  is  divorced." 


MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.         99 

"  How  horrid  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hesketh. 

"  Take  care  Hesketh  doesn't  raise  his  three 
fingers,"  whispered  the  general. 

"  I  believe  the  Afghans  are  the  lost  tribes  of 
Israel,"  said  Mrs.  Lawson  in  measured  tones, 
anxious  to  change  the  subject. 

"  They  have  the  tradition  among  them- 
selves, but  there  is  no  trace  of  it  in  their  lan- 
guage," replied  Bernard. 

The  dinner  lasted  fully  two  hours,  for  Sir 
Hugh  was  a  well-known  gourmand,  and  Mrs. 
Hesketh  had  supplied  an  almost  inexhaustive 
menu,  including  locust  curry,  which  was  the 
general's  special  weakness. 

When  the  ladies  had  left  the  table,  Mr.  Hes- 
keth took  his  wine-glass  and  came  to  the  side 
of  the  table  occupied  by  Major  Bernard. 

"  Bernard,  government  is  very  anxious  to 
secure  your  services  regarding  this  Khyber 
business,  but  we  will  talk  it  over  a  little  later," 
he  whispered. 

It  was  not  until  the  gentlemen  had  joined 
the  ladies  that  Mr.  Hesketh  took  Major  Ber- 
nard into  his  office  and  told  him  that  he  had 
suggested  his  name  as  the  best  man  to  send  on 


too  RUHAINAff. 

a  confidential  mission  beyond  the  frontier,  and 
that  he  had  only  a  few  hours  ago  received  the 
necessary  instructions. 

"  There  is,"  said  Hesketh,  "  an  influential 
chieftain  residing  at  Abukilla,  near  Jalalabad, 
named  Abdullah,  and  known  as  the  '  Rustum 
of  Herat,'  and  government  think  that  it  is  only 
through  his  influence  that  we  can  stop  these 
raids  on  our  frontier." 

"  It  is  a  business  entirely  after  my  own 
heart,"  said  Bernard. 

"  Yes,  but  we  all  know  it  is  a  mission  of 
some  peril." 

"Allah  Hafiz,  God  is  protector!  "  exclaimed 
Bernard. 

"  Put  this  bundle  of  papers  into  your  over- 
coat," said  Mr.  Hesketh,  as  he  opened  the 
office  door  and  entered  the  ante-room  leading 
to  the  drawing-room. 

Mr.  Hesketh's  presence  cut  short  an  earnest 
effort  on  Mrs.  Lawson's  part  to  persuade  the 
general  to  become  a  total  abstainer. 

"You  know,  Sir  Hugh,  that  Sale's  brigade  at 
Jalalabad  had  no  beer  or  rum,  but  did  all  their 
fighting  on  water." 


MRS.  HESKETH'S  DINNER  PARTY.        101 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Lawson,  that  is  an  historic  fact," 
replied  Sir  Hugh,  sarcastically.  "They  couldn't 
get  it  for  the  life  of  them,  but  I  cannot  give  up 
my  wine.  You  see,  Mrs.  Lawson,  I  like  it, 
which  is  to  me  an  irresistible  argument.  When 
I  am  shut  up  in  Jalalabad  and  can't  get  my 
wine  I  will  become  a  total  abstainer! "  and  the 
general  laughed  at  his  little  joke. 

"  Major  Bernard,"  said  Mrs.  Hesketh,  anxious 
to  cover  poor  Mrs.  Lawson's  seeming  defeat, 
"  before  you  came  into  the  room  I  was  telling 
Colonel  Noble  that  I  think  Buddhism  the  best 
religion,  at  which  dear  Mrs.  Tompkins  has  been 
dreadfully  shocked." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Bernard,  looking  at  Mrs. 
Tompkins,  "  Buddhism  has  many  attractions 
for  the  thoughtful  mind.  But,  speaking  as  an 
unbiased  judge,  I  am  bound  to  say  that  Gautama, 
the  Buddha,  can  never  do  for  mankind  what 
the  teaching  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  has  done." 

"  You  say  you  speak  as  an  unbiased  person, 
by  which  I  suppose  you  mean  as  a  student," 
said  the  Reverend  Mr.  Brown,  deeply  inter- 
ested. "  Will  you  kindly  tell  us  why  you  have 
arrived  at  such  a  conclusion  ?  " 


102  RUHAINAH. 

"  Because  the  leading  thought  in  Buddhism  is, 
that  life  is  an  evil,  and  the  sooner  you  pass  into 
Nirvanah,  or  annihilation,  the  better,  while  Jesus 
taught  that  life,  both  temporal  and  eternal,  is 
a  blessing  :  Christianity  is  a  thing  to  live  by." 

"  This  part  of  the  world  was  formerly  the 
seat  of  a  great  Buddhist  kingdom  ?  "  said  Dr. 
Bubbles  inquiringly. 

"Yes,  there  are  extensive  ruins  all  through 
this  valley,  and  yet  there  is  not  a  single  Budd- 
hist to  be  found  in  the  whole  country  now." 

It  was  long  past  ten  o'clock,  and  Mrs.  Noble 
left,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  soon  followed. 

"  Do  stay  a  little  longer,  Major  Bernard," 
said  Mrs.  Hesketh.  "  You  are  so  interesting." 

There  was  something  in  Amy  Hesketh's 
expression  of  face  as  she  looked  at  him,  which 
reminded  him  of  his  Lucknow  days. 

"  Mrs.  Hesketh  !  pardon  my  asking  you  the 
question,  but  had  you  a  sister  at  Lucknow  ?  " 

"Yes,  my  poor  sister  Eva  was  there." 

"Poor! — what  has  happened?  You  mean 
Mrs.  Burton  ?  " 

"  Yes,  poor  girl,  she  lost  her  husband  only  a 
few  weeks  ago." 


MRS.  HESKETfTS  DINNER  PARTY.       103 

"  I  knew  Mrs.  Burton  very  well." 

"  Yes,  I  have  often  heard  her  speak  of  you. 
So  you  are  really  going  to  Cabul  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  a  state  secret,  I  believe,  but  I  shall 
most  likely  find  my  way  there  if  the  Afghans 
don't  kill  me." 

"  My  husband  has  no  state  secrets  from  me," 
she  said.  "  Do  you  know  that  my  father  was 
killed  in  Cabul  ?  " 

"  Was  your  mother  there  ?  " 

"  I  really  cannot  say.  I  believe  she  died  on 
the  march  from  Cabul.  We  never  knew  the 
whole  story  of  our  parents'  deaths.  How 
deeply  interested  Eva  will  be  when  she  knows 
you  are  in  Cabul.  I  will  write  to  her  by  the 
next  mail." 

Bernard  soon  mounted  h'is  horse,  and  rode 
leisurely  up  the  mall.  He  was  lost  in  contem- 
plation. "  Eva  Burton  a  widow  !  How  strange! 
What  a  power  of  fascination  she  had  over  me ! 
It  is  strange  that  I  should  hear  of  Burton's 
death  just  when  I  am  most  probably  taking  a 
leap  into  the  dark  valley  myself !  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SISTER  LYDIA. 

V  FTER  a  sleepless  and  restless  night,  Major 
£\  Bernard  rose  early.  Clad  in  a  loose  Cashmere 
choga,  seated  in  his  verandah,  he  summoned  to 
his  presence  an  Afghan  officer  of  his  regiment 
known  as  "  Rasaldar  Dilawar." 

This  faithful  man  had  long  been  Bernard's 
confidential  adviser  in  all  matters  pertaining  to 
Central  Asian  politics,  and  never  once  had  he 
betrayed  the  trust. 

Dilawar  had,  in  his  younger  days,  been  a  noted 
brigand,  but  under  the  strict  vigilance  of  British 
rule  he  had  found  it  wiser  to  exchange  the  un- 
certain career  of  a  wild  robber  for  the  more 
regular  occupation  of  a  disciplined  soldier. 

Through  the  influence  and  teaching  of  a  pious 
officer  he  had  embraced  Christianity.  His  re- 
ligion, it  is  true,  was  of  a  somewhat  eclectic 
type,  embracing,  as  it  did,  a  combination  of  the 


SISTER  LYDIA.  IC>5 

teachings  of  Mohamed,  Gautama,  and  Nanak, 
with  those  of  the  Bible,  but  such  a  belief,  while 
it  attached  him  to  the  conquering  race,  es- 
tranged him  from  his  own  countrymen,  and  con- 
sequently made  him  a  still  more  loyal  and  use- 
ful servant  of  the  state. 

It  was  to  Dilawar  that  Major  Bernard  care- 
fully unfolded  his  plans  for  the  proposed  mis- 
sion. 

"  Sahib  !  "  said  the  Rasaldar,  "  it  is  impossi- 
ble. You  will  certainly  be  killed  if  you  at- 
tempt the  Khyber  route,  and,  as  you  are  aware, 
all  the  other  mountain  passes  are  closed." 

"  There  is  danger,  very  great  danger,  I  know, 
but  you  and  I,  friend  Dilawar,  have  braved 
danger  before,"  replied  Bernard. 

"  May  my  life  be  sacrificed  for  you  !  If  you 
go  I  shall  go  with  you." 

"  It  was  for  this  very  purpose  I  sent  for  you, 
Dilawar,  I  want  you  to  accompany  me.  You 
are  about  the  only  native  I  could  trust." 

"  Well,  sir,  if  any  man  can  go  you  can. 
Your  kindness  and  hospitality  to  the  Afghans 
are  well  known,  and  may  secure  you  protec- 
tion." 


106  RUHAINAH. 

"  I  have  always  been  a  well  wisher  to  the 
Afghan  race,  for  I  believe  there  is  still  a  high 
destiny  in  store  for  them." 

"  But  you  must  bear  in  mind  that  you  are 
now  going  to  seize  one  of  their  most  desperate 
leaders." 

"  That  is  true,  but  according  to  your  own 
information  Hasan  and  his  band  have  already 
fled  from  their  own  country.  We  are  therefore 
not  likely  to  fall  in  with  any  of  them  in  the 
Khyber." 

"  That  is  quite  true,  sir,"  replied  Dilawar. 

"  Then  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  I  once  enter- 
tained Hasan  under  peculiar  circumstances.  A 
price  was  set  on  his  head,  and  yet,  relying  on 
my  word,  he  came  and  stayed  a  night  with  me 
and  gave  very  important  information.  And  I 
do  really  believe  if  I  were  to  meet  Hasan  he 
would  give  me  protection  in  his  own  village, 
feeling  bound  to  do  so  by  the  laws  of  hospital- 
ity." 

"  Major  Sahib  !  "  said  Dilawar  with  great  firm- 
ness, "  you  cannot  trust  an  Afghan,  although  I 
say  it  who  am  an  Afghan  myself." 

"  Dilawar !  I  have  trusted  you,  and  I  shall 


SISTER  LYDIA.  107 

always  trust  you.  There  are  good  and  bad 
among  all  races  of  people." 

"  No,  Sahib !  don't  trust  even  me,"  said  the 
brave  old  soldier  with  a  smile. 

"  Indeed  I  shall.  Now  listen !  We  must 
start  at  once,  before  it  is  possible  for  Hasan  to 
know  our  intentions.  I  shall  assume  no  dis- 
guise. Where  British  money  goes  there  a 
British  officer  ought  to  find  protection.  We 
have  poured  lacs  of  rupees  into  Afghanistan 
and  the  Afghan  people  must  protect  me.  I  shall 
wear  the  native  costume,  because  I  know  my 
Afghan  friends  like  to  see  me  in  it.  But  I 
shall  attempt  no  disguise.  Our  baggage  must  go 
on  one  mule  and  you  must  engage  a  good  mule- 
teer. A  Hindu  will  be  safest,  for,  as  you  say, 
we  can't  trust  an  Afghan." 

The  Rasaldar  was  amazed  at  his  master's  ap- 
parent rashness. 

"Well!  just  as  you  think  wisest  and  right, 
sir.  You  know  best.  If  I  had  my  way  I  would 
disarm  the  whole  Afghan  nation,  and  hang 
every  Khyber  brigand  I  could  lay  my  hands  on." 

"  And  it  is  not  so  many  years  since  you  were 
a  brigand  yourself,  my  friend  ! " 


108  RUHAINAH. 

"  Yes,  and  if  you  had  hanged  me  it  would 
have  saved  government  a  lot  of  trouble.  But 
you  have  made  me  into  a  Rasaldar  and  have 
decorated  me  with  all  these  bits  of  silver,"  he 
said,  pointing  to  his  medals  and  laughing  heart- 
fly. 

"Ah,  Dilawar!  have  you  never  heard  the 
English  proverb  '  set  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief '  ? 
You  were  doubtless  a  first-class  brigand  and 
hence  you  are  one  of  the  smartest  soldiers  in 
the  native  army." 

Dilawar  acknowledged  the  compliment  with 
a  salaam.  "  Yes,  we  also  say,  '  take  a  stick 
from  the  tree  and  fix  it  to  the  axe  '." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  Garson,  the  major  of  brigade,  Ber- 
nard's most  intimate  friend.  The  Rasaldar 
saluted  the  officers  and  retired  to  the  cook- 
house, outside  the  bungalow,  to  enjoy  his  pipe. 

The  two  friends  were  soon  engaged  in  serious 
conversation  regarding  the  expedition. 

"Well,  Bernard,  all  I  can  say  is,  if  you 
succeed  in  capturing  Hasan  the  Khyberee,  and 
thus  save  our  cheese-paring  government  the 
expense  of  an  expedition,  you  will  be  knighted  ! 


SISTER  L  YDIA.  109 

—knighted,  sir !  And,  as  old  Colonel  Mangles 
is  always  saying,  you  will  be  commander-in- 
chief  some  day." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Garson,  after  a  short  pause, 
in  which  he  had  waited  for  Bernard  to  speak, 
"yes,  it  is  worth  the  venture.  Slain  in  the 
Khyber,  or  decorated  with  a  K.  C.  B.  Yes, 
by  Jove !  it  is  worth  the  risk.  Westminster 
Abbey  or " 

"  Abukilla,"  added  Bernard,  with  a  smile. 

"  Garson  !  "  said  Bernard,  looking  seriously, 
"you  will  not  accuse  me  of  cowardice,  I  know, 
when  I  tell  you  that  I  have  a  very  strong  pre- 
sentiment, indeed,  an  overpowering  conviction, 
that  I  shall  end  my  days  in  Afghanistan,  as 
so  many  others  have  done  before  me." 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,  don't  be  down-hearted 
about  it.  7  have  a  strong  presentiment  that 
you  will  return  and  be  a  great  man  some  day." 

"  Now,  Garson,  let  us  descend  from  the  re- 
gions of  dream-land  to  the  ordinary  (or  rather, 
to  the  extraordinary)  affairs  of  life.  There 
are  one  or  two  things  I  want  you  to  do  for  me." 

"  I  am  your  honor's  slave,"  said  Garson, 
affecting  a  lightness  of  heart  which  he  did  not 


110  RUHAINAH. 

feel,  for  he  too  thought  it  likely  he  would  never 
see  his  friend  Bernard  again. 

"  I  want  you  to  take  charge  of  this  dispatch- 
box.  It  contains  my  private  papers.  Should 
anything  happen  to  me,  send  it  to  Sister 
Lydia,  of  the  Dalston  Sisterhood  in  London." 

"  And  who  is  '  Sister  Lydia '  ?  " 

"  Garson  !  I  had  almost  said  it  is  no  business 
of  yours,  but  you  have  always  been  a  true 
friend  to  me,  and  you  shall  know. 

"When  I  was  in  London  last  year,"  Ber- 
nard continued,  "I  was  seized  with  scarlet  fever 
in  my  lonely  lodgings  in  Gower  Street.  My 
pious  old  aunt,  who  is  a  district  visitor  in 
Canon  Sleek's  parish,  and  who  is  almost  the 
only  relative  I  have  in  the  world,  never  came 
near  me,  but  left  me  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  lodging-house  keeper.  The  doctor,  who 
was  a  religious  man,  wrote  to  a  sisterhood  in 
Dalston,  which  was,  at  that  time,  being  attacked 
in  some  of  the  religious  newspapers,  and  they 
sent  me  a  nurse  in  the  person  of  a  young  lady 
clad  in  a  religious  habit.  She  never  divulged  her 
name,  and  was  known  to  me  and  the  doctor 
only  as  '  Sister  Lydia.'  She  attended  to  my 


SZS  TER  L  YD  I  A .  Ill 

wants  with  the  greatest  devotion.  She  often 
read  to  me,  and  frequently  spoke  to  me,  on 
religious  subjects.  I  became  warmly  attached 
to  her,  and  although  not  a  word  on  the  sub- 
ject was  ever  exchanged  between  us,  I  could 
see  that  she  was  deeply  interested  in  me." 

Garson  elevated  his  eyebrows. 

''You  need  not  smile,  Garson.  Man  of  the 
world  though  I  am,  or  rather  was,  I  should 
have  thought  it  sacrilege  to  have  attempted 
to  gain  the  affections  of  a  girl  who  had 
taken,  as  I  found  she  had,  the  vows  of 
her  order.  She  seemed  to  feel  the  awkward- 
ness of  her  position,  and  when  she  left  me  she 
made  the  strange  compact  that  while  she  would 
allow  me  to  correspond  with  her,  I  would  never 
attempt  to  see  her  again.  '  It  is  better  not,' 
she  said,  with  a  tearful  eye;  and  I  made  the 
promise  on  the  one  condition  that  I  should  pos- 
sess her  portrait.  That  cameo  over  my  mantel- 
piece, which  I  always  show  as  '  my  sister's  '  por- 
trait, is  her  likeness.  I  tried  to  get  some  fur- 
ther information  regarding  her  from  my  old 
landlady,  but  all  she  knew  was  that  Sister 
Lydia's  father  had  been  killed  somewhere  in 


112  RUHAINAH. 

India — a  circumstance  which,  I  need  scarcely  tell 
you,  did  but  increase  my  interest  in  her.  I 
have  a  faint  recollection  .that  she  did  once  tell 
me  her  father's  name.  It  was  one  night  when 
she  thought  I  was  dying,  but  it  has  certainly 
passed  from  my  memory.  We  correspond  reg- 
ularly, but  her  letters  are  always  on  the  subject 
of  religion." 

"A  very  interesting  flirtation!"  exclaimed 
Garson. 

"Garson,  my  good  fellow!  you  really  make  me 
angry.  I  tell  you  there  has  been  no  flirtation." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  But  you  must  admit 
that  it  is  a  very  romantic  and  interesting  epi- 
sode in  a  fellow's  life,"  replied  Garson. 

"  I  don't  mind  confessing  to  you,  Garson, 
that  that  woman,  child  in  fact,  for  she  could 
not  be  much  more  than  twenty  years  of  age, 
not  only  saved  my  life  but  restored  my  faith. 
If  I  were  on  my  death  bed  now,  I  should  throw 
all  systems  of  theology  and  of  philosophy  to 
the  winds  and  say  simply,  my  faith  is  that  of 
Sister  Lydia's." 

"  Even  as  a  little  child,"  said  Garson,  quoting 
the  chaplain's  text  of  last  Sunday's  sermon. 


SISTER  L  YDIA.  1 13 

"  Yes,  that  is  just  it,  Garson.  The  truth  is, 
the  Punjab  has  been  rather  overdone  with 
religion  of  late.  But,  as  I  understand  it,  Sister 
Lydia's  faith,  as  exemplified  in  her  simple  life, 
is  more  like  the  teaching  of  the  Son  of  God 
than  anything  I  have  yet  seen." 

"Well,  I  believe  more  in  the  religion  of  Sister 
Lydia  than  I  do  in  that  of  Mrs.  Lawson,  who 
won't  even  give  our  good  little  chaplain  a 
place  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

"  I  judge  no  man  ;  or  woman  either.  Not 
even  Mrs.  Lawson,"  said  Bernard. 

"  You  are  the  most  charitable  being  I  have 
ever  met  with.  But  you  must  admit  there  are 
some  very  unpleasant  Christians  in  the 
world." 

"Yes,  I  admit  it.  And  I  must  confess  that 
until  I  was  brought  in  contact  with  that  simple 
minded  little  Christian  from  Dalston,  I 
had  always  avoided  the  so  called  Christian 
society." 

"  And  no  wonder,"  exclaimed  Garson  as  he 
lit  a  cigar.  "  To  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  I 
hope  these  good  Christian  people  will  change 
their  dispositions,  be  a  little  more  amiable,  talk 


114  RUHAINAH. 

less  scandal,  etc.,  before  they  get  into  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven,  or  really  I  shall  feel  quite 
uncomfortable  in  their  society.  Heaven,  no 
matter  how  angelic  the  music,  would  be  a  very 
unpleasant  place  with  a  bevy  of  Mrs.  Lawsons 
inside  its  gates." 

"Do  you  know,  Garson,  I  think  you  also  will 
have  to  change  a  little  before  you  reach  the 
delectable  land,"  said  Bernard  rather  seriously. 
"  But  I  quite  agree  with  you.  And  yet,  some  of 
these  people  have  very  many  good  points. 
They  are  better  than  their  creed.  They  could  not 
sleep  in  their  beds  if  they  really  believed  all  their 
theology.  I  quite  expect  a  great  reaction  from 
the  present  state  of  things  even  in  my  own 
day." 

"  You  seem  to  think  I  might  be  better.  Well, 
Bernard,  I  must  go  to  London,  live  in  Gower 
Street,  get  scarlet  fever,  send  for  a  Dalston 
sister,  yield  to  the  gentle  pressure  of  a  loving 
hand  on  my  feverish  brow,  respond  to  the 
sweet  smile  of  bewitching  eyes,  and  so  forth  ; 
and  grow  good,"  said  Garson  laughing. 

"  I  believe  a  good  wife  would  be  the  making 
of  you,"  said  Bernard. 


SISTER  LYDIA.  115 

"  No,  I  am  too  young  to  marry.  No  man 
should  marry  until  he  is  thirty-five." 

"  That  is  contrary  to  the  generally  received 
opinion,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  is,  and  yet  all  the  experience  of 
life  seems  to  prove  that  I  am  right.  A  young 
fellow,  a  mere  boy,  does  not  know  his  own  mind 
as  to  the  sort  of  wife  he  really  needs." 

"  But  I  always  thought  that  falling  in  love 
had  something  to  do  with  it." 

"Well,  I  suppose  it  has,  but  just  see  how 
soon  men  '  fall  out '  of  love.  The  genuine 
article  is  a  very  rare  thing,  I  can  assure  you." 

"Why,  Garson,  you  talk  like  a  sage." 

"  Bernard !  tell  me  candidly  and  honestly 
were  you  ever  really  in  love?" 

Bernard  remained  for  some  time  in  a  state  of 
apparent  abstraction.  He  was  really  thinking 
of  his  Lucknow  days,  and  of  Gower  Street. 
"  That  is  rather  an  awkward  question." 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Garson  smiling. 

"  Well,  I  do  really  believe  I  am  telling  you 
the  downright  honest  truth  when  I  say,  I  have 
never  known  what  true  love  is.  But  at  the 
same  time  I  must  tell  you,  it  has  been  my  mis- 


Ii6  RUHAINAH. 

fortune  on  two  occasions  to  become  very  much 
fascinated  with  those  with  whom  I  could  not 
honorably  fall  in  love." 

"Ah  !  I  thought  a  man  of  your  age  couldn't 
have  escaped  altogether."  , 

"  But  excuse  me,  my  friend,  were_jw/  ever  in 
love?"  inquired  Bernard. 

"  It  is  my  chronic  state  and  condition,"  said 
Garson. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  Bernard.  "  But 
let  us  proceed  to  business.  Please  take  the 
greatest  care  of  this  little  box,  for  it  contains 
valuable  government  securities,  and  if  you  hear 
of  my  death  send  it  to  Sister  Lydia." 

"  All  right,  Bernard,  if  those  Afghans  do  cut 
you  up,  '  Sister  Lydia '  shall  have  the  precious 
box,  even  if  I  go  by  the  overland  route  and 
deliver  it  myself." 

Captain  Garson  then  left  for  his  own  quarters 
with  a  native  servant  carrying  the  dispatch  box 
behind  him.  And  Major  Bernard  sat  down  at 
his  office  table,  and  wrote  the  following  letter  : 
"  DEAR  SISTER  LYDIA — 

"  I  am  starting  on  an  important  politi- 
cal mission  beyond  the  British  frontier.  In 


SISTER  LYDIA.  llf 

the  present  unsettled  state  of  the  country 
it  is  certainly  a  very  hazardous  undertaking. 
The  chances  (if  you  will  allow  me  to  speak 
of  chances),  are  very  much  against  my  ever 
returning.  I  have,  therefore,  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  arrange  all  my  worldly  affairs. 

"  I  am  leaving  in  the  charge  of  Captain  Gar- 
son,  the  major  of  brigade  at  Peshavvur,  a 
dispatch-box,  which  contains  my  last  will  and 
testament.  You  are  my  executrix  and  my 
sole  legatee.  I  have  considerable  property,  but 
it  is  all  at  your  disposal.  Your  vows  of  poverty 
will,  perhaps,  prevent  your  taking  it  yourself, 
but  you  can  apply  it  at  your  discretion  to  char- 
itable uses.  You  need  not  scruple  to  receive 
it,  for  my  only  surviving  relative  is  a  rich 
maiden  aunt,  who  has  more  money  than  she 
knows  what  to  do  with. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  friend,  I  cannot  conclude 
this  letter,  written  as  it  is  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, without  saying  once  more,  what  I 
have  often  written,  that  you  have,  by  your 
simple  methods,  exercised  a  marvellous  influ- 
ence over  both  my  mental  and  religious  life. 
Your  kind  ministrations  to  me  last  year,  and 


Il8  RUHAINAH. 

your  many  sweet  Christian  letters  since,  have 
made  me  both  a  wiser  and  a  better  man.  Mine 
has,  in  many  respects,  been  a  disjointed  and 
broken  life,  some  would  say  an  inconsistent  life, 
but  you  have  done  much  to  bring  the  links 
together. 

"  When  we  parted  you  said  we  must  never 
meet  again.  Not  in  this  world  of  sin  and 
sorrow,  perhaps,  but  I  shall  humbly  hope  to 
meet  you  in  Heaven  : 

'  Where  thou,  sweet  saint,  before  the  choir  shall  go, 
As  harbinger  of  heaven,  the  way  to  show, 
The  way  which  thou  so  well  hast  learned  below.' 

"  Ever  sincerely  yours, 

"  BERTRAM  BERNARD." 


CHAPTER  X. 

RUNNING   THE   GAUNTLET. 

WHO  comes  there?" 
"  Friend ! " 

"Pass,  friend!  All  is  well!"  replied  the 
sentry. 

And  Major  Bernard  and  his  faithful  Afghan 
friend  Dilawar  passed  the  military  guard  on  the 
very  spot  where,  only  a  few  weeks  before,  the 
whole  cavalry  picket  had  been  massacred  to  a 
man  by  Hasan  and  his  desperate  band. 

"  Don't  loiter  behind,"  said  Dilawar  to  the 
muleteer  who  came  with  the  baggage.  "We 
must  all  keep  together." 

It  was  a  little  past  midnight  when  they 
started  on  their  way,  and  they  had  scarcely 
reached  the  entrance  of  the  dismal  and 
uninviting  Khyber  by  sunrise. 

"  Har  kala  rasha !  May  you   ever   come!" 


120  RUHAINAH. 

exclaimed  a  horseman,  as  he  galloped  up  to  the 
side  of  the  English  officer. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  said  Dilawar,  placing  his 
hand  upon  his  revolver.  "Come  you  as  friend 
or  foe  ?  " 

"  I  come  as  a  friend.  I  am  Alak,  the  son  of 
Abdullah,  the  Rustum  of  Herat.  I  am  sent  by 
my  father  to  escort  the  English  officer  in  safety 
to  our  fort." 

"  You  are  indeed  welcome,"  replied  Bernard. 

The  arrival  of  the  chieftain's  son  was  a  great 
relief  to  Major  Bernard's  mind,  for,  knowing  that 
Alak  was  a  secret  member  of  the  Guild  of  the 
Red  Hand,  he  felt  he  could  not  possibly  have 
a  better  or  a  safer  escort. 

"  Major  Sahib  !  "  said  Alak,  "  let  me  tell  you 
before  we  enter  the  Pass,  that  neither  I  nor 
any  human  being  can  control  the  actions  of  a 
wild  unmanageable  spirit  like  Hasan  the 
Khyberee." 

"  Hasan  and  I  are  not  strangers  to  each 
other.  He  was  my  guest  on  one  occasion 
when  his  life  was  entirely  at  my  mercy,"  replied 
Bernard. 

"That  may  be  quite  true,"  said  Alak,  "  But 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  121 

you  must  bear  in  mind  that  you  are  on  a 
special  expedition  for  his  capture." 

"  Well,  not  exactly  for  his  capture.  My 
special  mission  is  the  suppression  of  the  raids 
on  our  frontier.  But  if  I  become  his  guest  I 
shall  expect  the  same  protection  in  his  country, 
as  I  once  gave  to  him  when  he  sojourned 
with  me." 

"  I  will  explain  matters  to  him  if  we  meet 
(which  God  grant  we  may  not).  Although 
I  scarcely  expect  to  see  him,  for  I  am  told  he 
has  fled  into  the  distant  hills,"  said  Alak. 

A  tedious  journey  of  some  nineteen  miles 
brought  the  party  to  Ali  Masjid,  the  well- 
known  fort  in  the  centre  of  the  defile.  The 
fort  is  situated  on  the  heights  above  the  road 
and  was  at  this  time  occupied  by  a  strong 
garrison  of  the  Ameer's  troops. 

The  Afghan  commandant  of  the  fort  was 
an  old  and  well-trusted  servant  of  the  Ameer, 
but  as  Major  Bernard  came  with  no  creden- 
tials from  his  highness  he  did  not  receive  the 
foreigner  with  the  very  best  grace. 

"  I  admit,"  said  Major  Bernard,  "  that  it 
would  have  been  more  in  order  if  I  possessed 


122  RUHAINAH. 

a  pass  from  the  Ameer,  but  surely  these 
letters  from  my  own  government  ought  to 
be  sufficient.  Afghans  travel  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  India  with  perfect 
safety.  Why  then  is  your  country  closed 
to  the  English  traveller  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,  sir,"  said  the  command- 
' ant;  "but  it  was  your  invading  army  which 
closed  Afghanistan  against  you.  Before  you 
forced  yourselves  as  conquerors  you  were  wel- 
come everywhere.  The  Afghans  have  ever 
been  a  hospitable  race." 

The  commandant  supplied  them  with  such 
fare  as  the  garrison  possessed  and  gave  them 
comfortable  quarters  for  the  night.  At  sunrise 
they  left  with  the  salutations  of  peace  and 
resumed  their  journey.  The  road  from  Ali 
Masjid  to  Lundi  Kotal  is  through  the  stony 
bed  of  a  mountain  stream  and  opens  on  to  a 
small  arid  plain  in  which  are  the  ruins  of  an 
old  Buddhist  tope.  It  then  rises  along  the 
side  of  the  lower  ranges  until  it  descends  to 
the  valley  of  Dakka  from  whence  the  traveller 
obtains  sight  of  the  Cabul  River  and  the  eternal 
gnows  of  the  Hindu-Kush  in  the  far  off  distance. 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  123 

The  hospitality  of  the  fort  and  the  assuring 
presence  of  Alak,  together  with  the  uneventful 
character  of  the  journey,  had  made  the  travel- 
lers almost  forget  they  were  in  an  enemy's 
country,  and  as  they  were  in  sight  of  the 
Ameer's  territory,  Major  Bernard  had  begun  to 
think  the  perils  of  the  journey  were  well  nigh 
over. 

The  faithful  Dilawar  had  even  begun  to 
pay  less  attention  to  the  loaded  chambers  of 
his  Colt's  revolver,  while  the  Hindu  muleteer- 
in  restful  security,  was  singing  the  familiar  ditty 
of  nani  pant. 

Bernard  had  just  lighted  a  cheroot,  when  a 
rapid  fire  of  muskets  from  the  rocks  above 
opened  briskly  upon  them. 

"Lubaika  !  "  cried  Alak,  giving  the  pass-word 
of  the  guild,  and  the  firing  ceased. 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  confronted 
with  none  other  than  the  desperate  brigand 
Hasan  the  Khyberee  and  two  of  his  chosen 
band. 

Bernard  and  Dilawar  presented  their  revolvers 
and  the  brigands  at  once  saw  the  horsemen 
had  the  advantage. 


124  RUHAINAH. 

"  Not  one  step  nearer,  friends,"  exclaimed 
Dilawar,  "  or  you  are  all  dead  men," 

"  One  question  I  will  put  to  you,  O  brother 
Alak,  and  it  is  this  :  in  the  name  of  the 
Prophet,  what  brings  you  in  company  with 
infidels :  with  those  who  eat  pork,  drink  wine, 
and  curse  our  Prophet's  holy  name  ?  "  said 
Hasan. 

"  They  are  my  father's  guests." 

"  True,  but  they  are  the  enemies  of  our 
religion  and  of  our  race !  " 

"Stay!"  exclaimed  Bernard  in  excellent 
Pushto  ;  "  if  I  remember  rightly  even  Hasan 
the  Khyberee  once  ate  the  salt  of  the  infidel 
he  now  despises  ! 

Hasan,  heedless  of  the  six  chambers  of 
Dilawar's  revolver,  sprang  forward  and  seized 
Major  Bernard's  hand — "  And  is  it  you,  Major 
Sahib  !  Hasan  has  never  slain  one  whose  salt 
he  has  eaten.  You  shall  pass  in  peace." 

"  You  needn't  talk  about  slaying,"  said 
Dilawar,  "  for  it  would  appear  we  are  more 
than  a  match  for  you." 

" Silence,  Dilawar !"  said  Bernard;  "this  is 
not  the  time  nor  the  place  for  a  strife  of  words. 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  125 

We  are  Hasan's  guests,  and  we  are  truly  in- 
debted to  him  for  protection." 

Hasan  assisted  Major  Bernard  to  dismount, 
and  his  two  followers  led  the  horses  behind 
them  as  they  strolled  leisurely  to  a  little  village 
close  by.. 

Cots  were  soon  drawn  out  in  front  of  the  vil- 
lage guest-house,  and  pillows  and  quilts  were 
spread  for  the  hospitable  entertainment  of  the 
strangers  by  Hasan  and  his  companions. 

"  You  can  rest  here  in  peace,"  said  Hasan, 
"  and  continue  your  journey  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening.  Mounted  as  you  are,  you  can  easily 
reach  the  fort  of  the  Rustum  of  Herat  by  night 
prayer." 

"  Your  kindness  and  hospitality  are  indeed 
great,"  said  Bernard,  "  but  we  must  take  care 
of  our  baggage." 

"  The  baggage  need  not  cause  you  any 
anxiety.  We  can  take  care  of  that,"  said  the 
brigand  with  a  suppressed  smile. 

"Solomon  the  sage  "  soon  arrived  with  two 
cups  of  sherbet,  which  he  handed  to  the 
travellers,  when,  just  as  they  raised  the  vessels 
to  their  lips,  a  gang  of  ruffians  rushed  upon 


126  RUHAINAH. 

Bernard  and  Dilawar  and  seized  their  weapons. 
They  soon  found  themselves  bound  hand 
and  foot  upon  two  cots,  while  in  the  distance 
they  saw  the  poor  helpless  Hindu  muleteer  fall 
beneath  Hasan's  dagger.  Alak  had  disap- 
peared, but  whether  he  had  fallen  a  victim  to 
the  treachery  of  his  own  guild  it  was  impossible 
to  tell. 

"  This  is  rather  a  bold  scheme  of  yours, 
major,"  said  Hasan,  as  he  stood  beside  the 
prostrate  officer,  his  hands  still  stained  with  the 
blood  of  the  poor  helpless  Hindu.  "  Rather 
a  bold  scheme  to  take  the  lion  in  his  own  lair." 

Bernard  remained  silent,  for  he  knew  that 
any  words  of  protestation  he  might  utter  would 
but  increase  the  anger  of  the  enraged  brigand. 
But  he  now  saw  the  folly  of  trusting  the  word 
of  a  wild  and  desperate  character  such  as  Hasan. 

So  fearful  were  the  brigands  of  the  soldierly 
prowess  of  the  English  major  and  his  brave 
companion,  that  they  kept  them  securely  bound 
upon  the  charpoys,  not  even  loosing  the  thongs 
to  give  them  their  scanty  evening  meal. 

In  this  helpless  condition  Bernard  lay  till 
long  past  midnight,  when  suddenly  he  felt  the 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  127 

thongs  which  bound  him  loosed  by  a  friendly 
hand. 

"  Dilawar,  is  that  you  ?  "  whispered  Bernard, 
as  he  felt  himself  gradually  restored  to  liberty. 

"  Silence,"  said  Alak  (for  it  was  he).  "  It 
can  never  be  that  a  guest  of  the  Rustum  of 
Herat  perish  in  the  infernal  regions  of  the 
Khyber." 

"But  are  you  not  a  sworn  member  of  their 
band  ? " 

"  This  is  not  the  time  for  questions.  Follow 
me." 

"  I  cannot  go  without  Dilawar." 

"  That  you  must,  for  he  was  slain  about  an 
hour  ago." 

"  By  whom  ?  " 

"  By  Hasan's  own  hand." 

"  Then  I  shall  not  leave  this  place  until  I 
have  avenged  his  death." 

"  That  is  impossible.  Remember,  you  are 
unarmed." 

"Where  is  Hasan?  " 

"  He  has  retired  to  his  house,  and  has  left 
me  in  charge  of  his  prisoner.  No  time  must 
be  lost.  Keep  your  lips  closed.  Follow  me. 


128  RU HA  IN  AH. 

Mount  your  horse  and  ride  for  your  very  life 
to  our  fort  at  Abukilla.  The  road  is  good." 

"  Give  me  my  sword  and  revolver." 

"  There  they  are,"  said  Alak. 

Alak  led  Major  Bernard  silently  to  a  small 
coppice  close  to  the  village  graveyard,  where 
his  white  charger  was  tethered.  They  were 
soon  mounted. 

"Why  do  you  linger?"  said  Alak. 

"  I  must  once  more  gaze  on  the  face  of  my 
faithful  Afghan  friend  Dilawar." 

"  That  is  impossible,"  replied  Alak,  "  for  his 
corpse  is  still  stretched  on  a  cot  in  Hasan's 
court-yard." 

"Then  call  Hasan!  for  escape  is  impossible 
until  Dilawar's  death  is  avenged." 

"  Major  Sahib,  you're  mad !  " 

"  Yes,  I  am."  And  Major  Bernard  shouted, 
"  Hasan  !  Hasan  !  you  traitor,  come  forth  !  " 

In  a  few  moments  the  little  village  was  all 
excitement  as  Hasan  appeared  riding  a  poor 
half-starved  beast  such  as  usually  exists  in  the 
barren  defile  of  the  Khyber. 

"  Remember,  Alak  ! "  said  Bernard,  with 
authority,  "  remember,  your  safety  rests  simply 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  129 

in  obeying  my  commands."  And  the  cavalry 
officer  appeared  as  confident  of  success  as 
though  he  had  been  at  the  head  of  his  own 
regiment,  instead  of  commanding  a  company  of 
"  one"  and  that  one  a  very  doubtful  ally. 

The  villagers  opened  out  an  aimless  fire 
from  their  muskets  as  Hasan  advanced  to 
attack  Bernard,  who  feigned  a  retreat  so  as  to 
separate  the  brigand  from  his  unmounted  fol- 
lowers. 

Hasan  continued  in  hot  pursuit,  when  sud- 
denly Bernard  pulled  up  and  exclaimed  :  "  You 
traitor !  you  coward  !  you  son  of  Satan  !  "  and 
taking  deliberate  aim,  shot  the  brigand  dead. 

"  Shahbash  !  Well  done  !  "  exclaimed  Alak, 
as  they  galloped  away  at  full  speed.  "  Major  ! 
you  are  a  true  Afghan,  and  know  how  to  avenge 
the  death  of  a  friend." 

"  Alak  !  "  said  Bernard,  with  evident  emotion, 
"  government  could  have  spared  me  far  better 
than  they  could  part  with  a  faithful  Afghan 
soldier  like  Dilawar.  But,  friend  Alak,  are 
you  not  a  member  of  Hasan's  guild  ?  " 

"  Thou  hast  truly  spoken,"  said  Alak,  "  but 
you  must  know  that  it  was  concerning  the 


130  RU II A  IN  AH. 

death  of  Dilawar  that  Hasan  and  I  had  a  dis- 
pute last  night.  My  plan  was  to  spare  your  lives 
and  dictate  terms  to  the  English  government, 
but  that  hypocrite,  "  Solomon  the  sage,"  de- 
manded the  life  of  the  poor  old  infidel,  Dila- 
war. True,  I  am  a  member  of  the  Guild  of 
the  Red  Hand  (and  he  held  up  his  open  palm 
whereon  was  the  ominous  red  spot),  but  I  am 
also  the  son  of  the  '  Rustum  of  Herat,'  and  all 
the  world  knows  that  Abdullah,  even  in  his 
darkest  deeds,  ever  acted  as  a  man  of  honor." 

"  Alak  !  you  Afghans  are  truly  a  strange  peo- 
ple. The  more  I  see  of  you  the  less  do  I  under- 
stand you." 

"  We  are  Bene  Israel.  We  are  indeed  a 
strange  people,"  said  Alak,  as  he  urged  on  his 
horse.  "  But  if  you  want  to  see  a  real  Afghan, 
wait  until  you  behold  the  blessed  face  of  my 
noble  father." 

Major  Bernard  and  Alak  rode  at  full  speed 
until  they  reached  the  little  town  of  Dakka, 
where  they  found  saddled  horses,  and  a  small 
escort  of  mounted  retainers  sent  by  the  chief 
of  Abukilla.  Fatigued  by  the  long  and  excit- 
ing journey,  and  almost  broken-hearted  at  the 


RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET.  131 

loss  of  his  faithful  friend,  Major  Bernard  ar- 
rived at  the  pretty  little  village  of  Abukilla  at 
sunset  and  was  warmly  welcomed  as  he  entered 
its  quaint  old  fort. 

"  Staraima  s/iaif  "  "  May  you  never  be  tired," 
exclaimed  the  fine  old  chieftain  as  he  received 
his  English  guest. 

"  Har  shah  neki!  "  "  May  you  ever  be  prosper- 
ous," responded  Bernard,  as  he  dismounted 
from  his  jaded  steed. 

The  whole  fort  was  in  a  state  of  bustle  and 
excitement  with  strenuous  efforts  to  give  a 
hospitable  and  real  Afghan  welcome  to  the  for- 
eigner. Akbar,  the  slave,  the  chief's  own  per- 
sonal attendant,  brought  a  large  chilam,  or 
pipe,  another  slave  handed  a  glass  of  sandal 
sherbet,  while  the  village  jester  stooped  to 
shampoo  the  wearied  limbs  of  the  newly  arrived 
guest. 

Addullah  listened  attentively  as  his  son 
graphically  described  the  exciting  incidents  of 
the  journey  ;  and  continuous  and  loud  were  the 
"  sabashes  "  and  "  afreens"  as  he  told  the  story 
of  Bernard's  determination  to  avenge  the  death 
of  his  Afghan  friend.  It  was  evidently  a  deed 


132  RUHAINAH. 

which  commended  itself  to  the  natural  instincts 
of  the  Afghan  mind. 

"You  are  right  welcome,  brave  sir,  to  my 
poor  dwelling.  I  saw  much  of  the  English  dur- 
ing the  last  war.  But  we  should  have  liked 
you  better  then  had  you  come  as  friends  instead 
of  conquerors.  We  are  of  the  same  race,  for 
our  learned  men  say  you  also  are  the  sons  of 
Israel." 


"You  must  pardon  my  seeing  but  little  of 
you  the  next  day  or  two,"  the  old  man  said, 
as  he  rose  to  leave  his  guest,  "  but  I  am  busily 
engaged  in  preparations  for  my  second  daugh- 
ter's nuptials  which  are  about  to  be  celebrated." 

"Who  is  the  fortunate  man?"  inquired 
Bernard. 

"  The  Khan  of  Lalpura,  the  leading  Moh- 
mund  chief." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT. 

room  occupied  by  the  English  guest 
JL  was  one  of  those  apartments  in  an  Eastern 
dwelling  known  as  a  balakhana,  or,  upper 
room.  The  windows,  of  sliding  shutters,  opened 
the  whole  length  of  the  chamber  and  com- 
manded an  extensive  view  of  the  valley  below 
and  of  the  snow-clad  mountains  in  the  distance. 
A  winding  staircase  communicated  with  the 
outer  court  in  which  was  the  chieftain's  guest- 
house, and  a  small  door  opened  on  to  the  roof 
of  the  harem  and  led  to  the  female  apartments 
of  the  household,  the  chamber  being  usually 
tenanted  by  Abdullah  himself,  and  only  on 
very  special  occasions  devoted  to  the  accommo- 
dation of  strangers. 

It  had  an  air  of  comfort  and  even  luxury. 
A  Persian  carpet  covered  the  floor ;  soft 
cushions  and  pillows  of  every  conceivable  size, 


134  RUHAINAH. 

shape,  and  color  were  arranged  as  lounges  on 
every  sid» ;  and  upon  a  handsomely  gilded 
couch  were  thrown  quilts  of  the  richest  Bukha- 
rah  silks.  The  walls  of  the  chamber  were  covered 
with  gaudy  French  pictures  representing  nearly 
all  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe,  past  and 
present,  while  the  prominence  given  to  a 
cheap  painting  of  Napoleon,  standing  on  the 
barren  rocks  of  St.  Helena,  seemed  to  indicate 
that  the  military  renown  of  the  exiled  Corsican 
had  even  excited  the  admiration  of  the  old  Af- 
ghan warrior  who  now  held  the  fort  of  Abukilla. 
Curious  recesses  painted  in  fantastic  colors  were 
filled  with  glasses,  cups,  and  tea-pots,  of  every 
design  and  shape  ;  and  on  the  cornices  above 
had  been  skilfully  arranged  alternate  rows  of 
oranges,  apples,  and  yellow  daffodils.  It  was 
evident  that  some  report  of  Major  Bernard's 
linguistic  and  literary  fame  had  preceded  him, 
for  upon  a  small  table  in  the  corner  were  piles 
of  books  in  Persian,  Pushto  and  Arabic,  includ- 
ing a  copy  of  Carey's  translation  of  the  Pen- 
tateuch. 

After  a  night  of  heavy  slumber  Bernard  was 
awakened  soon  after  sunrise  by  the  appearance 


LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT.  135 

of  Alak  holding  up  a  pair  of  copious  pijamahs, 
as  Akbar  the  slave  stood  behind  with  an  ewer 
of  water,  a  towel,  and  a  comb  for  the  English- 
man's morning  toilet. 

"  My  father  has  sent  you  these,"  said 
Alak,  opening  out  a  bundle  of  clothes,  "  for 
it  will  be  some  time  before  we  can  recover  your 
baggage  from  those  demons  of  Khyberees." 

"  How  elegantly  this  choga  is  embroidered," 
said  Bernard  as  he  examined  a  white  robe  of 
the  most  costly  needle-work. 

"  The  house  " — by  which  Alak  meant  some 
one  of  the  ladies  of  the  harem — "  is  very  clever 
at  this  kind  of  work.  I  am  surprised  the  old 
man  sent  it,  for  it  is  his  favorite  robe.  The  one 
he  wears  on  feast  days  and  weddings." 

"  You  had  better  change  it  for  another,"  Alak 
continued,  addressing  Akbar. 

"  The  master  specially  selected  it,"  replied 
the  slave. 

"  The  generosity  of  your  benevolent  father 
flows  even  as  the  waters  of  Al-Kausar"  said 
Bernard  as  the  slave  poured  water  on  his  hands 
and  held  the  comb  and  towel. 

As  Alak  held  a  small  hand-mirror,  and  Ber- 


136  RU HA  IN  AH. 

nard  combed  out  his  long  flowing  beard,  he 
exclaimed : 

"  By  the  Prophet !  you  are  a  capital  shot,  sir ! " 

"  Well,  I  have  the  reputation  of  being  a 
very  fair  one  when  my  hand  is  steady." 

"  You  brought  that  Khyberee  to  the  ground 
like  a  mountain  deer." 

"  I  was  sorry  to  shoot  the  fellow,  but  I  was 
determined  to  avenge  the  death  of  one  of  my 
most  faithful  friends." 

"  Major  Sahib  !  I  am  not  surprised  that  the 
men  of  your  regiment  are  devoted  to  you.  You 
can  love  and  you  can  hate  with  all  the  passion 
of  an  Afghan." 

"Alak!"  said  Bernard,  very  solemnly  and 
looking  the  young  man  in  the  face,  "  friend  Alak ! 
the  color  of  a  man's  skin,  or  the  language  he 
speaks,  or  even  the  religion  he  professes  never 
influences  me  in  my  friendships.  God  has  made 
us  all  of  one  blood." 

"  Why  that  is  very  much  what  my  old  father 
says.  The  Rustum  of  Herat  is  a  very  remark- 
able man,  sir." 

"  I  am  sure  he  must  be,  and  I  am  most  anx- 
ious to  secure  his  friendship." 


LO  VE  A  T  FIRST  SIGHT.  137 

"  Major  Sahib!"  said  Alakin  a  whisper,  "  you 
know  enough  of  our  customs  to  be  well  aware 
that  now  you  have  slain  Hasan  the  Khyberee, 
every  member  of  his  guild  is  in  honor  bound  to 
avenge  his  death." 

"  I  feel  safe  in  the  hands  of  the  Rustum  of 
Herat,"  replied  Bernard  looking  keenly  at  Alak 
as  he  left  the  room. 

Major  Bernard  fully  realized  the  true  import 
of  the  young  Afghan's  words,  knowing,  as  he 
did,  that  Alak  was  a  member  of  the  notorious 
band.  But  it  seemed  unlikely  that  the  young 
man  would  attempt  anything  as  long  as  Bernard 
was  under  his  father's  roof. 

Reclining  on  his  couch,  and  thinking  of  little 
else  than  the  perilous  position  he  was  placed 
in,  Bernard's  eyes  rested  on  a  crevice  in  the  lit- 
tle wooden  door  which  communicated  with  the 
female  apartments  of  the  harem.  Partly  from 
curiosity,  as  well  as  to  ascertain  if  he  were 
being  watched,  Bernard  sprang  from  his  cot  and 
peeped  through  the  aperture,  when  to  his 
amazement  he  found  he  had  a  full  view  of  the 
central  court  of  the  harem! 

Knowing  well  the  jealousy  with  which  East- 


138  RUHAINAH. 

ern  races  regard  all  communications  with  their 
seraglios,  Major  Bernard's  first  impulse  was  to 
call  the  chieftain's  son,  and  to  direct  his  atten- 
tion to  the  broken  door,  but  a  moment's  reflect- 
ion convinced  him  that  such  a  step  would  ex- 
cite the  suspicions  of  so  undisciplined  a  charac- 
ter as  Alak. 

Bernard  lost  no  time  in  cutting  a  splinter 
from  one  of  the  shutters.  But,  as  he  was  endeav- 
oring to  fix  it  to  the  door,  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  fairy-like  scene  in  the  court-yard 
below.  There,  standing  on  the  marble  parapet 
of  the  well  in  the  centre  of  the  court-yard  was 
the  nymph-like  form  of  a  most  beautiful  young 
girl  draped  in  a  loose  white  kurta.  Her  rich 
deep  auburn  tresses  fell  gracefully  on  her  ex- 
quisitely formed  shoulders,  and  her  eyes 
sparkled,  as  with  the  freshness  of  the  morning 
dew,  as  she  playfully  raised  her  pretty  little 
hand  in  stern  rebuke  to  the  mischievous  little 
olive-skinned  slave  girl  who  tenderly  wiped  her 
feet.  The  perfect  symmetry  of  her  delicately 
moulded  figure  was  clearly  shown  as  she  sprang 
forward  to  catch  the  roguish  little  bondmaid, 
who  ran  and  hid  herself  behind  the  charpoy  on 


LOVE  AT  FIRS T  SIGHT.  1 39 

which  were  scattered  the  various  articles  of  the 
fair  maiden's  wardrobe. 

"  Good  Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Bernard  to 
himself,  "  what  a  captivating  creature  !  " 

He  would  fain  have  lingered  on  the  forbidden 
scene,  but  the  sound  of  footsteps  on  the  outer 
staircase  warned  him  to  desist.  Quickly  cov- 
ering the  treacherous  crevice  in  the  forbidden 
door,  he  returned  to  his  couch  with  an  enslaved 
heart.  He  had  beheld,  and  he  had  loved — (even 
at  first  sight) — the  fair  girl  who  was  known  only 
to  the  outside  world  as  the  "  Maid  of  Herat": 
Ruhainah,  the  daughter  of  Abdullah. 

In  a  few  moments  Abdullah  entered  the 
chamber,  resting  on  his  staff  and  somewhat  out 
of  breath  from  the  steep  ascent  of  the  winding 
staircase. 

"  May  you  ever  come  !  My  house  is  yours  ! 
We  are  all  your  honor's  slaves ! "  were  the 
Afghan  salutations  with  which  the  benevolent 
old  chieftain  welcomed  his  English  guest. 

"  You  must  be  tired  after  your  exciting  ride 
of  yesterday,  but  you  seem  to  have  done  your, 
work  in  true  Afghan  fashion,"  he  said. 

"  I   am  certainly  an  Afghan   in  this,  that  I 


140  RUHAINAH. 

know  how  to  speedily  avenge  the  foul  assassina- 
tion of  my  friends,"  said  Bernard. 

"  True,  true,  Major  Sahib  !  but  it  all  increases 
my  responsibility.  Hasan's  friends  will  surely 
seek  your  life." 

"  I  feel  perfectly  safe  in  your  hospitable 
fort." 

"  True,  true,"  said  the  old  man  thoughtfully, 
"  but  I  do  not  always  feel  safe  even  in  my  own 
dwelling.  These  are  the  last  days,  sir,  when 
there  is  decay  of  faith  among  men,  and  you 
cannot  now  even  trust  the  word  of  a  Moslem. 
Why,  sir,"  he  added  in  a  suppressed  tone  of 
voice,  "  these  are  days  when  you  cannot  trust 
even  your  own  children. 

"You  like  that  choga ? "  the  old  man  con- 
tinued, glad,  as  it  appeared,  to  change  the  sub- 
ject, "  you  like  the  beautiful  needle-work  in  that 
robe  ?  " 

"  It  is  indeed  exquisite,"  replied  Bernard,  as 
he  examined  his  coat  more  carefully.  "  Did 
you  buy  it  in  Persia?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  old  chieftain  with  a  smile. 
"  It  was  done  by  my — by  the  house"  An  ex- 
pression which  although  framed  in  the  inani- 


LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT.  141 

mate  neuter  was  understood  by  Bernard  to 
refer  to  some  female  member  of  the  harem. 

After  a  long  conversation  with  Major  Ber- 
nard regarding  the  special  object  of  his  mission, 
Abdullah  left  his  English  guest  in  the  upper 
chamber  alone. 

"  I  am  getting  an  old  man,  sir,  but  my  son 
Alak  will  attend  to  your  commands.  My  house 
is  yours.  May  God  protect  you  !  "  said  the  hos- 
pitable host  as  he  left  his  guest  to  descend  the 
stairs. 

Looking  around  him  Bernard  observed  that 
the  splinter  of  wood  which  he  had  placed  in 
the  door  had  fallen  from  its  place  and  that  a 
pair  of  bright  eyes — evidently  those  of  a  girl- 
were  peeping  through  the  aperture.  Could 
they  be  the  eyes  of  the  fair  maiden  who  had  so 
captivated  him  ?  Impossible !  No  Afghan  girl 
of  the  reputed  modesty  of  the  Maid  of  Herat 
would  be  guilty  of  such  conduct. 

It  was  Gulandamah  the  slave  girl. 

"  Open  the  door !  open  the  door  !  "  said  the 
voice  in  a  whisper. 

"  Impossible,"  said  Bernard,  feeling  that 
although  he  had  escaped  the  designs  of  Hasan 


142  RUHAINAH. 

the  Khyberee  he  might  not  be  so  successful  in 
resisting  the  intrigues  of  a  pretty  slave  girl. 

"  If  you  care  for  your  life,  you  will  let  me  in," 
whispered  Gulandamah. 

"  Where  is  the  chief  ?  " 

"  He  is  in  the  mosque." 

"  Where  is  Alak?" 

"  He  has  gone  to  the  fields." 

"Are  you  quite  alone?" 

"  Yes." 

Bernard  gently  opened  the  door  and  admit- 
ted Gulandamah. 

"  Tell  me  as  quickly  as  you  can  all  you  wish 
to  say  and  be  as  brief  as  possible,"  he  said.  "  If 
you  are  found  in  my  room  I  shall  be  killed." 

"  You  will  be  killed  any  way,"  said  the  girl. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Alak,  last  night,  told  his  sister  Ruhainah 
that,  as  you  had  slain  Hasan  the  chief  of  his 
guild,  he  must  take  your  life ;  and,  as  it  is  her 
turn  to  cook  the  food  for  the  guests  this  morn- 
ing, he  gave  her  a  packet  of  poison  to  put  in 
your  food.  So  my  mistress  has  sent  me  to 
warn  you  of  your  danger." 

Bernard,   who   from   his   long  contact   with 


LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT.  1 43 

Oriental  life  had  become  almost  a  fatalist, 
thought  to  himself,  "  How  strange  that  I  should 
owe  my  life  to  that  beautiful  creature  who  so 
captivated  my  heart  only  a  short  time  ago — it 
must  be  my  kismet" 

"  Stay,  my  little  maid  !  I  will  give  you  some- 
thing for  your  fair  mistress,"  and  taking  a  slip 
of  paper  he  wrote  the  Pushto  couplet : — 

"  Prudence  sets  great  sttfre  by  name  and  fame, 
Love  casteth  both  away." 

"  Now  please  give  this  letter  to  the  Fair  Maid 
of  Herat  and  tell  her  how  truly  grateful  her 
English  guest  is  for  her  kind  protection,"  said 
Bernard,  as  he  placed  in  the  little  slave-girl's 
hand  the  piece  of  paper  and  a  few  silver  rupees. 
Gulandamah  gently  closed  the  door,  and  Bern- 
ard stealthily  watched  her  through  the  crevice 
as  she  descended  into  the  court-yard  and 
approached  her  mistress.  The  beautiful  Ruh- 
ainah  blushed  as  she  read  Bernard's  lines,  and, 
as  Gulandamah  looked  in  the  direction  of  the 
door,  she  sweetly  smiled.  .— *— - 

"  That  smile,  how  familiar  it  seems  to  me,  and 
how  sweet ! " 


144  RUHAINAH. 

As  some  time  elapsed  before  the  serving  of 
his  morning  meal  Bernard  reclined  on  his  couch 
and  abandoned  himself  to  dreamy  and  romantic 
contemplation. 

"  Only  two  days  have  passed  since  I  emerged 
from  the  civilized  life  of  a  military  cantonment, — 
and  here  I  am  in  the  regions  of  semi-savagery, 
and  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  these  brutes  of 
Afghans  ! — Poor  old  Dilavvar  is  no  more  ! — The 
very  brigand,  whose  lawless  acts  it  is  my  special 
mission  to  suppress,  has  been  slain  by  my  own 
hand  ! — And  here  I  am  on  the  very  eve  of  being 
poisoned  !  yes,  poisoned  !  and  that  just  after  I 
seem  to  have  had  a  glimpse  of  the  Prophet's 
own  paradise  !  " — and  Bernard  laughed  at  his 
own  joke. 

Yes,  he  could  not,  for  the  very  life  of  him,  get 
that  young  girl's  face  out  of  his  mind.  It  was 
not  the  first  pretty  face  he  had  seen  by  many  a 
thousand,  but  never  in  the  whole  course  of  his 
life  had  he  beheld  a  face  like  that.  He  was  in 
love  !  There  was  not  the  slightest  doubt  about 
it.  In  love  witJi  an  Afghan  girl !  The  whole 
thing  was  just  like  a  page  of  the  Arabian 
Nights,  or  of  some  other  strange  Eastern 


LOVE  AT  FIRS T  SIGHT.  145 

romance.  What  would  the  end  of  the  chapter 
be  ?  Would  he  die  like  a  poisoned  cur,  or  would 
he  slay  Alak  and  run  off  with  the  beautiful 
sister?  What  will  be  the  end  of  it  all  ? 

Such  were  the  thoughts  passing  through  Ber- 
nard's mind  when  Alak  entered  the  room  with 
an  attendant  carrying  several  dishes  of  food,  on 
a  handsome  tray. 

Spreading  a  large  colored  cloth  on  the  floor, 
Alak,  placing  the  dishes  upon  it,  invited  the 
major  to  partake  heartily  of  his  morning  meal. 

"  You  must  be  hungry,  sir,  after  your  exer- 
tions of  yesterday.  The  house  has  very  care- 
fully prepared  these  dishes  and  I  hope  they  will 
suit  your  honor's  palate." 

"  Will  you  not  join  me  ?  It  is  surely  con- 
trary to  your  custom  for  a  guest  to  eat 
alone  ?  " 

"  It  is  one  of  my  fast  days,"  said  Alak,  and 
he  left  the  room. 

"  It  is  very  evident  that  either  you  or  I  must 
die,  friend  Alak,"  thought  Bernard,  as  he  cast 
a  glance  at  his  revolver. 

"  Eat  on,  you  are  safe !  "  exclaimed  a  female 
voice  from  the  inner  door. 


146  RUHAINAH. 

"Were these  delightful  dishes  of  plau,  and 
curry  and  fleer eenee,  and  heaven  kpows  what,  all 
prepared  by  the  sweet  little  fingers  of  your  fair 
mistress?" 

"  And  by  my  sweet  little  fingers  too,"  said 
Gulandamah  slyly. 

"  Gulandamah  !  my  good  little  maid,  you 
must  go. — But  stay  ! — Tell  me,  was  your  young 
mistress  very  angry  when  she  read  my  Pushto 
verse  ?  " 

"  Not  very." 


CHAPTER  XII. 
SHAIDY'S  WEDDING. 

A  MID  the  deafening  beatings  of  drums,  the 
±\  discordant  pipings  of  pipes,  and  the  inter- 
mittent firings  of  muskets  in  every  street,  lane, 
and  alley  of  the  village,  the  gloomy  heart  of 
the  once  bright  little  Shaidy  thrilled  and 
throbbed  with  the  conflicting  elements  of  wonder 
and  despair,  as  she  gazed  pensively  on  the 
playful  waters  of  the  marble  fountain  as  they 
rippled  and  glistened  in  the  sunny  morn. 

Clad  in  rich  and  luxurious  pijamahs  of  bright 
crimson  satin,  covered  to  the  knees  with  a 
graceful  kurta  of  green  and  gold,  her  whole 
figure  veiled  with  white  spangled  muslin  wrought 
in  skilful  needle-work  by  her  sister's  loving  hand, 
Shaidy  reclined  her  dark  dimpled  cheek  on 
Ruhainah's  fair  arm,  as  her  large  lustrous  eyes 
(the  truest  type  of  Eastern  beauty),  seemed  to 
speak  more  eloquently  than  mortal  tongue  that 


148  RUHAINAH. 

all  the  sounds  of  merriment  and  joy  on  this 
her  nuptial  day  were  but  as  the  wails  of  lamen- 
tation for  a  shrouded  spirit.  The  joyous  strains 
of  the  village  minstrels  penetrated  even  the 
thick  walls  of  the  secluded  harem,  but  the  flow 
of  revelry  and  the  round  of  merriment  did  but 
deepen  the  heavy  gloom  which  overshadowed 
the  soul  of  that  sweet  little  Shaidy  who  for 
sixteen  short  years  had  been  the  joy,  the  pet, 
and  the  toy  of  the  household  of  the  Rustum  of 
Herat. 

"  Shaidy,  my  life  !  "  said  her  mother,  "  you 
must  cheer  up  and  not  manifest  such  grief  on  this 
your  wedding  day." 

"  Mother  dear!  I  am  reconciled  to  my  fate. 
But  it  is  indeed  hard  to  leave  you  all.  To 
leave  you,  my  loving  mother.  To  leave  Ruhai- 

nah,  my  own  sweet  sister,  to  leave !  "  But 

she  dare  not  utter  the  beloved  name,  for  none 
knew  of  her  passion  for  Yusuf  save  her  sister  and 
the  faithful  little  slave. 

"  Look  here  !  "  exclaimed  the  Sadozie  wife  of 
royal  lineage.  "  Look  here  !  these  heavy  bangles 
of  the  purest  gold  have  been  sent  as  a  wedding 
present  by  none  other  than  the  Ameer  of 


SffAIDY'S  WEDDING.  149 

Cabul !  "  and  the  noble  lady  stooped  and  bound 
them  on  the  wrists  and  ankles  of  the  young 
bride. 

"  These  beautiful  earrings,"  said  Alak's 
mother,  "  are  my  present,  my  child !  The 
Almighty  never  gave  me  a  daughter,  but  I  have 
ever  loved  you  and  Ruhainah  with  a  mother's 
love,"  and  she  tenderly  placed  them  in  Shaidy's 
ears. 

"  My  offering,"  said  the  young  Sheenwaree 
wife,  "  is  this  nose  ring.  Nand  Ram,  the 
Hindu,  procured  it  from  Ajmeer;  it  is  of  rare 
workmanship,  I  am  told." 

"  The  old  heathen  stole  it,  I  verily  believe  !  " 
whispered  Gulandamah  to  Ruhainah. 

"  Shaidy,  my  own  darling  sister !  my  life  !  my 
rose !  accept  of  my  poor  little  offering,  it  is 
only  a  silver  ring,  for  the  learned  say  the 
Prophet  never  wore  gold,  but  on  its  ruby  signet  is 
inscribed  AR  RAKEEB,  'the  Watcher.'  And 
may  God  watch  between  thee  and  me."  And 
Ruhainah  kissed  her  sister's  hand  as  she  placed 
on  her  finger  the  mystic  ring. 

Gulandamah  stood  by  in  amazement  as  she 
beheld  the  sparkling  jewels  (for  there  were 


150  RUHAINAH. 

many  other  rich  gifts,  including  a  brilliant  tiara 
from  the  bridegroom's  mother),  as  they  glistened 
on  the  rich  luxuriant  dress  of  the  veiled  figure 
of  her  lovely  young  mistress ;  and  clapping  her 
hands  and  dancing  in  the  wildest  excitement 
she  exclaimed  :  "  O  you  houri  of  paradise !  you 
royal  princess !  you  are  just  like  the  beautiful 
bride  of  Shahriyaar !  You  are  even  as  a  bright 
star  shot  straight  from  the  spangled  heavens ! 
O  my  sweet  Sultana !  you  will  be  as  happy 
as  the  favorite  wife  of  some  mighty  Caliph.  By 
the  Prophet !  won't  those  other  wives  and 
slave  girls  be  jealous  of  Shaidy  the  beautiful 
daughter  of  the  Rustum  of  Herat?  " 

"  Gulandamah,  do  not  be  silly  and  talk 
nonsense  !  "  said  Ruhainah  with  some  au- 
thority. 

"  O  my  good  mistress !  I  am  but  a  slave !  " 
and  Gulandamah  knelt  humbly  and  cast  her 
turban  at  Ruhainah's  feet.  "  Why  even  Shah- 
baz  is  paid  for  playing  the  fool." 

"  True,  but  he  is  the  village  jester,  and  you 
are  a  serving  maid." 

Gulandamah  placed  her  hand  on  her  lips 
and  silently  wondered  if  Ruhainah  was 


SHA fDY'S  WEDDING.  1 5 1 

jealous  of  her  sister's  surpassing  beauty. 
For  her  part,  she  had  never  been  able  to  under- 
stand why  the  fair  Ruhainah  with  her  auburn 
tresses  and  her  dreamy  eyes  was  considered  so 
much  more  beautiful  than  her  younger  sister 
with  her  glossy  black  ringlets  and  her  full  dark 
lustrous  eyes. 

"  Gulandamah  ! "  said  Shaidy  coaxingly, "  Ruh- 
ainah is  not  angry  with  you  ;  she  loves  you  just 
as  much  as  I  do,  but,  you  know,  her  heart  is 
sad  to-day.  Now  that  we  three  are  alone,  I 
want  you  to  sew  this  little  slip  of  paper  you 
brought  this  morning,  into  a  piece  of  silk,  for 
I  shall  wear  it  as  an  amulet." 

"  May  I  read  it  ?  "  enquired  Ruhainah. 

"  Yes.     They  are  Yusuf  s  own  lines." 

And  she  read  : — 

In  vain  I  seek  excitement's  glare, 
Commune  with  friends  or  idly  rove  ; 
My  breast  still  heaves  with  deep  despair, 
O'erwrought  by  hopeless  fatal  love. 

"  Poor  Yusuf ! "  added  Ruhainah  as  she  folded 
the  slip  of  paper  and  gave  it  to  the  slave  girl, 
who  quickly  sewed  it  in  a  piece  of  blue  silk, 


152  RUHAINAH. 

and  suspended  it  on  her  mistress's  neck.  "  Poor 
Yusuf !  " 

"Thank  you,  Gulandamah,"  said  Shaidy. 
"  And  now  you  must  tell  Yusuf  that  it  is  here." 
And  she  clasped  the  precious  talisman  to  her 
heart. 

While  the  interior  of  the  chieftain's  harem 
was  presenting  a  somewhat  gloomy  spectacle, 
the  outer  court  was  the  scene  of  the  wildest 
revelry  and  excitement.  Everything  had 
been  done  that  possibly  could  be  done  to 
impress  the  English  guest  with  the  importance 
of  Abdullah's  position  as  a  leading  Afghan 
chieftain.  The  entrance  to  the  fort  was  lined 
with  mounted  retainers,  some  of  whom  were 
clad  in  ancient  chain-armor.  The  interior  of 
the  court  was  crowded  with  minstrels  and  danc- 
ing girls.  Busy  attendants  rushed  to  and  fro 
serving  costly  sherbets,  and  handing  round  the 
calumet  of  peace.  Numerous  guests  from  all 
parts  of  the  Afghan  world  came  with  hearty 
congratulations,  as  the  venerable  chieftain  wel- 
comed them  with  the  salutations  of  peace. 

Long  rows  of  cots  were  arranged  in  a  semi- 
circle, in  the  centre  of  which  the  Rustum  of 


SffAIDY'S  WEDDING.  153 

Herat  reclined  resting  on  a  huge  white  pillow, 
over  which  had  been  thrown  a  beautiful  Cash- 
mere quilt.  Major  Bernard  sat  on  his  right  and 
Mullah  Ahmad  the  priest  on  his  left,  thus  form- 
ing a  strikingly  picturesque  group  in  the  centre 
of  a  throng  of  turbaned  guests  representing 
the  various  tribes  and  families  of  Central  Asia. 
So  great  was  the  reputation  of  the  chief  of 
Abukilla,  that  friends  had  hastened  to  congrat- 
ulate him  on  his  alliance  with  the  leading  Moh- 
mund  chief,  even  from  the  remotest  regions  of 
Bushire,  Bukharah,  and  Nepal.  The  old  man's 
face  radiated  with  delight  as  he  now  realized 
the  wide  extent  of  his  fame  and  popularity. 
It  was  evident  that  the  depressing  and  gloomy 
atmosphere  of  the  harem  had  not  reached  the 
hospitable  environments  of  the  chieftain's  guest- 
house. Mullah  Ahmad,  the  priest,  sat  in  pious 
abstraction  counting  his  beads  with  indifference, 
while  his  poor  love-sick  son  was  lonely  seated 
on  the  minaret  of  the  mosque  in  the  agony  of 
despair. 

The  distant  sounds  of  the  bridegroom's  pro- 
cession welled  up  the  side  of  the  hill  from  the 
valley  beneath,  and  soon  the  hoofs  of  the  horses, 


154  RUHAINAH. 

the  clatter  of  swords,  and  the  firing  of  muskets, 
announced  that  the  procession  was  at  the 
threshold  of  the  fort. 

"  The  bridegroom  cometh  !  go  ye  out  to  meet 
him !  "  said  Abdullah  as  he  buckled  on  his  sword 
and  with  a  quick  step  led  his  friends  to  the  gate- 
way of  the  fort,  to  welcome  his  future-son-in- 
law. 

The  Khan  ofLalpura,whowasathickset  little 
man  of  stunted  growth  and  with  decidedly 
pugged  features,  dismounted  from  his  horse  and 
having  exchanged  salutations  took  his  seat  on 
Abdullah's  right ;  Major  Bernard  having  spec- 
ially requested  that  he  should  not  be  intro- 
duced to  the  Mohmund  chief,  but  retire  and  be 
allowed  to  view  the  ceremonies  from  the  top  of 
the  watch-tower. 

"  Let  the  marriage  ceremonies  begin,"  said 
Abdullah,  addressing  Ahmad  the  priest. 

An  attorney  was  selected  to  wait  on  Shaidy 
to  obtain  her  consent. 

The  village  barber,  being  best  acquainted 
with  the  interior  of  the  harem,  was  deputed  to 
wait  upon  the  bride. 

"  Silence  gives  consent "  in  Moslem  law,  and 


SHAIDY'S  WEDDING.  155 

therefore  no  difficulty  was  caused  by  Shaidy's 
reticence. 

"  Why  don't  you  say  '  no  '  ?  "  said  Ruhainah. 
"If  I  loved  Yusuf  as  you  do  I  would  kill  my- 
self rather  than  marry  another." 

Shaidy  hid  her  face  and  wept,  and  the  vil- 
lage barber  returned,  and  stated  in  due  form  that 
"  Shaidy,  the  youngest  daughter  of  Abdullah 
the  exalted  chief  of  Abukilla,  had  consented  to 
marry  Lateef  the  renowned  chief  of  the  Moh- 
munds." 

"The  dowry  must  be  settled  !  "  said  the  priest 
with  great  solemnity. 

"  I  will  settle  upon  her  five  thousand  tilahs 
of  pure  gold,  and  a  well,  with  one  hundred 
acres  of  good  land  ." 

"  Afreen  !  Well  done  !  "exclaimed  the  numer- 
ous spectators.  "  The  chief  has  behaved  right 
generously  regarding  the  family  of  the  Rustum 
of  Herat." 

"  Let  the  service  proceed  !  "  said  Abdullah. 

The  priest  then  requested  the  bridegroom  to 
stand  in  front  of  him  and  to  recite  the  neces- 
sary prayers  and  confession  of  faith. 

With   a    slight  stammer,    for    the  generous 


156  RUHAINAH. 

chief  was  afflicted  with  an  impediment  in  his 
speech,  the  bridegroom  recited  as  follows  : — 

"  I  desire  forgiveness  from  God  ! 

"  There  is  no  God  but  God,  and  Mohamed  is 
His  Prophet ! 

"  I  believe  in  God,  in  the  angels,  in  the  books, 
in  the  Prophets,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  in 
the  absolute  decrees  of  the  Almighty  !  " 

The  village  barber,  as  Shaidy's  agent,  then 
seized  the  fat  little  hand  of  the  stunted  Moh- 
mund  chief  and  declared  : — 

"  In  the  presence  of  two  witnesses  and  in 
consideration  of  the  dowry  already  fixed,  Shaidy 
the  daughter  of  Abdullah  consents  to  marry 
you.  Do  you  consent?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,  I  consent !  I  consent !  I 
consent !  "  replied  the  bridegroom. 

Then  raising  his  hands  with  great  solemnity 
the  priest  said  : — 

"  O  Great  God  !  grant  that  mutual  love  may 
reign  between  these  two  persons,  even  as  it  did 
exist  between  Adam  and  Eve,  Abraham  and 
Sarah,  Joseph  and  Zulaikah,  Moses  and  Zipo- 
rah,  Mohamed  and  Ayesha,  Aly  and  Fatimah, 
Ameen." 


SHAIDY'S  WEDDING,  157 

"  Ameen  ! "  said  Abdullah  with  great  fervency. 

"  Ameen  !  "  reiterated  the  bridegroom. 

"Ameen  !"  exclaimed  the  whole  company. 

A  slight  titter  was  heard  in  the  assembly  as 
Shahbaz  the  jester  echoed  "Ameen"  from  the 
remotest  corner  of  the  court. 

The  wedding  was  over,  and  by  this   act  Ab- 
dullah the  Rustum  of  Herat  had  secured  the-^ 
friendship  of  the   leading  chieftain  of  the  dis- 
trict. 

There  was  a  general  shaking  of  hands  and 
profuse  congratulations  on  all  sides,  and  the 
lucky  little  chief  received  an  extra  blessing  as 
he  placed  in  the  priest's  hand  a  liberal  benefac- 
tion. 

The  leading  minstrel  marshalled  his  force  of 
musicians  and  dancing  girls  as  the  palanquin 
was  brought  into  the  harem  to  bear  away  the 
sorrowful  little  bride. 

"  May  God  protect  you,  my  child,"  said  her 
mother. 

"  The  Prophet's  blessing  rest  upon  you,"  said 
her  aged  father. 

"  God  help  you,"  exclaimed  Ruhainah. 

And  Shaidy,  taking  one  lingering  look  at  the 


158  RUHAINAH. 

distant  minaret,  stepped  into  the  covered  litter 
and  was  borne  away  on  the  shoulders  of  four  of 
her  father's  slaves. 

Major  Bernard  viewed  the  procession  from 
the  turret  of  the  fort,  but  with  very  different 
feelings  from  those  of  the  love-sick  Yusuf  who 
stood  on  the  lofty  minaret  of  his  father's  mosque. 
.It  was  truly  a  picturesque  sight  as  the  mar- 
riage procession  wended  its  way  down  the 
winding  pathway  which  led  from  the  village  to 
the  plains  below.  The  wild  warlike  steps  of 
the  numerous  retainers ;  the  sweet  strains  of  the 
lute  ;  the  fantastic  dance  of  the  Nautch  girls ; 
the  beatings  of  drums;  the  clashing  of  cymbals  ; 
the  bridegroom  mounted  on  his  prancing 
white  steed,  whose  long  drooping  tail  had  been 
dyed  red  with  henna,  and  the  closed  litter 
covered  with  gorgeous  trappings,  all  combined 
to  make  it  both  an  interesting  and  a  novel 
spectacle  to  the  foreign  guest. 

"This  is  not  the  only  country  in  the  world 
where  girls  are  bought  and  sold,  and  there  are 
ill-sorted  matches  in  other  countries  than 
this,"  said  Bernard  to  himself  as  he  descended 
from  the  turret. 


SffAIDY'S  WEDDING.  159 

Major  Bernard  retired  to  his  "  upper  chamber," 
for  he  was  glad  to  escape  an  introduction  to 
the  crowd  of  visitors.  But  he  had  not  been  long 
in  his  solitary  chamber  before  he  saw  the  eyes 
of  the  irrepressible  little  slave  girl  peeping 
through  the  crevice. 

"This  is  a  very  dangerous  game  in  a  country 
like  this,"  thought  Bernard  to  himself.  But  the 
recollection  of  the  captivating  scene  still 
lingered,  and  while  discretion  dictated  that  he 
should  send  Gulandamah  away,  love  suggested 
that  he  should  call  her  in.  And  love,  as  it 
generally  does  under  such  circumstances,  gained 
the  day. 

"  Only  for  a  few  minutes,"  he  said  as  he 
opened  the  door  noiselessly.  "  Only  for  a  few 
minutes." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Gulandamah,  flushed  with 
the  excitement  of  the  day,  and  whose  olive 
skin  radiated  with  a  beauty  by  no  means  to  be 
despised.  » 

"You  must  have  had  an  exciting  day,  my 
little  maid  ?  " 

"  Very.  I  have  not  had  a  single  moment's 
rest  until  now." 


160  RUHAINAH. 

"  Did  your  mistress  send  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  came  to  please  myself." 

"  Now,  tell  me  somethingabout  your  mistress," 
Bernard  said  as  he  placed  in  her  hand  a  couple 
of  rupees.  "  Tell  me  the  young  lady's  name." 

"  Ruhainah." 

"  But  she  is  always  spoken  of  as  the  '  Maid 
of  Herat.'  Why  is  this  ?  " 

"  Because  they  all  come  from  Herat,  and  be- 
cause the  old  chief  is  so  fond  of  her  that  he 
won't  give  her  in  marriage  to  any  one." 

"  She  is  very  fair." 

"  Have  you  seen  her?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have." 

"  Oh  fie,  Major  Sahib ! "  said  the  little  damsel 
raising  her  finger;  "  how  dare  you  look  at  us  ? 
The  chieftain  will  kill  you." 

Bernard  felt  he  had  made  a  grave  mistake 
in  letting  out  the  secret. 

"  You  need  not  fear,  Sahib  !  I  shall  never 
tell.  My  mistress  likes  you  too  much,  and  I 
like  you  too  much  ever  to  betray  you." 

"  Does  your  mistress  like  me  ?  She  has 
never  seen  me." 

"  But  she  liked  your  verses.    O  Major  Sahib  ! 


SffAIDY'S  WEDDING.  161 

I  do  so  wish  I  could  write.  I  should  have 
lots  of  lovers  if  I  could  only  write." 

"  It  is  a  fortunate  thing,  my  little  damsel, 
that  your  education  has  been  neglected,  for  you 
would  certainly  get  into  trouble.  But  tell  me, 
who  was  Ruhainah's  mother?  She  is  very  fair." 

"  Her  mother  was  a  Cashmeree,  and  the  chief 
loved  her  more  than  all  his  other  wives,  and 
so  when  Ruhainah's  mother  died,  he  loved  her 
daughter  more  than  anybody  else  in  the  whole 
world  ;  and  I  tell  you,  Major  Sahib,  if  you  fall  in 
love  with  my  mistress,  the  chief  will  kill  you," 
and  the  slave  girl  laughinglydrewherhand  across 
her  throat  to  give  emphasis  to  her  warning. 

"  It  is  not  likely  I  shall  fall  in  love  with  her." 

"  Yes,  you  will,  if  you  go  on  peeping  through 
that  crevice  day  after  day." 

"  Is  she  so  beautiful?" 

"  Beautiful  !  Why  every  prince,  sardar,  and 
chief  in  the  whole  country  wants  to  marry  her ; 
and  mark  my  word,"  she  said,  raising  her  hand, 
"  one  of  the  Cabul  princes  will  run  away  with 
her  some  day." 

"  Is  she  clever  ?  " 

"  Clever !  Why  there  is  not  a  single  thing  she 


162  RUHAINAH. 

cannot  do.  Do  you  admire  that  beautiful  choga 
you  have  on?  Ruhainah  worked  it.  Did 
you  enjoy  your  dinner  last  evening  ?  Ruhainah 
cooked  it.  Do  you  ever  hear  beautiful  music  ? 
It  is  Ruhainah's  rebab.  Have  you  ever  heard  a 
sweet  voice?  It  is  Ruhainah's  voice  as  she 
soothes  her  father  to  sleep.  Do  you  see  this 
pretty  cap  of  mine  ?  Ruhainah  embroidered  it." 

"  Is  the  young  lady  who  was  married  to-day 
as  beautiful  as  her  sister?  " 

"  Far  more  beautiful,  only  her  father  does 
not  think  so.  But  listen,  I  hear  the  chieftain's 
footsteps,  I  must  run  away,"  and  the  bright 
little  gad-about  had  scarcely  closed  the  door 
when  Abdullah  entered. 

"  I  am  much  fatigued  after  the  excitement 
of  the  day,  sir,"  the  old  man  said,  "  but  I  hope 
all  your  wants  are  attended  to.  I  must  await  the 
Ameer's  instructions ;  till  then  remember  my 
house  is  yours." 

"  To  reside  even  for  a  day  under  the  hospit- 
able roof  of  the  Rustum  of  Herat  is  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  pleasures  of  paradise,"  and  Major 
Bernard  felt  he  was  in  truth  not  merely  utter- 
ing an  empty  compliment. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   POISONED   DIgH. 

"fT^ELL  me,  Gulandamah,  is  he  very  hand- 

\_  some  ? "  said  Ruhainah,  as  she  read 
once  more  the  lines  Bernard  had  sent  her. 

"Well!  he  is  certainly  better  looking  than 
the  chief  of  Lalpura." 

"  He  must  be  brave  !  Even  Alak  says  he  is. 
He  must  love  our  race  to  risk  his  life  as  he  did 
for  his  Afghan  friend  !  " 

"  He  evidently  loves  some  of  your  race  !  " 
said  Gulandamah,  slyly. 

"And  he  must  be  clever?" 

"  He  speaks  your  language  like  an  Afghan." 

"  Oh,  Gulandamah  !  do  tell  me  more  about 
him.  You  have  simply  told  me  nothing." 

"  My  sweet  lady !  what  can  I  tell  you  ?" 

"Tell  me  something." 

"  Well,  then,  to  begin,"  and  the  little  slave 
held  up  her  five  fingers,  and  began  to 


164  RUHAINAH. 

count  up  the  foreigner's  graces.  First  /  He 
is  tall,  exactly  a  hand's  breadth  taller  than  your 
noble  father.  Second!  He  has  a  long,  flowing 
brown  beard,  exactly  three  shades  darker  than 
your  own  beautiful  tresses.  Third /  His  nose 
is  turned  in  precisely  the  opposite  direction  to 
that  of  Shahbaz  the  Jester !  Shahbaz's  nose  is 
always  looking  at  the  heavens,  but  the  for- 
eigner's is  a  fine,  handsome  nose,  just  like 
your  father's.  Fourth !  He  has  the  most 
beautiful  pearly  teeth  set  in  the  prettiest  ruby 
mouth  I  have  ever  seen.  Fifth  !  He  has  the 
softest  and  the  most  winning  voice  I  have  ever 
listened  to.  I  had  no  idea  that  your  poor  little 
slave's  name  was  so  sweet  and  pretty  until  I 
heard  the  foreigner  say  Gul-an-da-a-mah ! " 
And  she  imitated  Bernard's  voice. 

"Go  on,  Gulandamah,  you  have  still  five 
fingers  left  on  the  other  hand  !  "  said  Ruhainah, 
laughing  at  the  little  mimic. 

"  Sixth  !  He  wears  his  mustache  uncut,  just 
like  an  infidel." 

"  Oh !  Horrid  !  "  exclaimed  Ruhainah. 

"Yes,  it  completely  covers  his  lips.  He 
couldn't  give  one  a  kiss  if  he  wanted !  " 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  165 

"But  go  on,  Gulandamah!  You  have  still 
four  fingers  left." 

"  Well,  my  lovely  mistress.  Seventh  !  His  skin 
is  as  fair  as  yours,  and  his  cheeks  are  almost  as 
rosy.  Eighth!  When  he  looks  at  one,  his  eyes 
seem  to  go  right  straight  to  one's  very  heart." 
And  the  little  slave  pointed  to  the  region  in 
which  she  thought  the  palpitating  member 
resided. 

"  How  interesting !  "  exclaimed  Ruhainah. 
"  Butfl/ease  don't  stop." 

"  Ninth  !  When  he  laughs  he  shows  his  back 
teeth  just  as  the  Prophet  did." 

"  Who  told  you  the  Prophet  showed  his  back 
teeth  ?  " 

"  Why,  Yusuf  did.  He  tells  me  I  always 
laugh  like  the  Prophet." 

("  Upon  whom  be  peace,"  devoutly  added 
Ruhainah.) 

"  But  you  have  ten  fingers  !  Now,  tenth  !  "  said 
Ruhainah,  impatiently. 

"  Oh,  dear  me,  what  can  I  say  ?  Tenth ! 
Tenth  !  Well,  tenth  !  Oh,  my  angelic  mistress  ! 
he  does  look  so  very,  very  handsome  in  that 
beautiful  choga  which  you  worked  for  your 


1 66  RUHAINAH. 

father  for  the  last  great  festival.  I  cannot  tell 
you  anything  more!" 

And  the  little  slave  came  and  sat  at  Ruhai- 
nah's  feet,  as  her  mistress  kissed  her. 

Gulandamah's  amusing  description  of  the 
foreigner  had  intensely  interested  Ruhainah, 
who  would  gladly  have  encouraged  the  girl  to 
proceed,  but  the  aged  chieftain  entered  and 
seated  himself  beside  his  daughter,  and  lov- 
ingly took  her  hand,  and  Gulandamah  left. 

"  Father !  dear  father  !  how  feverish  you  are, 
and  how  anxious  you  look  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  anxious,  and  there  is  much  cause 
for  it,  my  child  ! " 

"  Why-?  " 

"  The  Englishman,  who  is  my  guest,  shot  the 
renowned  brigand  Hasan." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it.  It  was  indeed  brave  and 
noble  of  him  to  avenge  the  death  of  his  friend, 
especially  when  that  friend  was  of  an  alien  race. " 

"True!  True!  My  child!  But  blood  for 
blood !  A  life  for  a  life  !  Your  brother  is  one  of 
Hasan's  fraternity.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"Yes,  father,  I  do.  You  mean  that  Alak  is 
sworn  to  take  the  foreigner's  life  ?  " 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  167 

"Verily,  thou  hast  spoken  the  truth,  my 
daughter!  "  said  the  old  man  solemnly. 

"I  know  it,  father!  Already  Alak  has  tried 
to  make  me  poison  the  Englishman's  food." 

"  Allah !  Good  God !  Thou  alone  canst 
restrain  the  evil  passions  of  men !  "  said  her 
father. 

"But  I  refused  to  obey  him.  I  saidj  'Alak, 
if  you  must  take  the  infidel's  life,  do  it  as  a 
warrior,  and  not  as  a  base  assassin.'  ' 

"  Ruhainah,  my  brave  girl,  thou  didst  speak 
nobly.  As  long  as  I  hold  this  fort  it  shall  not 
be  the  scene  of  foul  assassination." 

"  Oh,  take  us  all  back  to  Herat !  "  exclaimed 
Ruhainah.  "  There  is  nothing  but  wrong  and 
robbery,  treason  and  murder  in  this  horrid 
place." 

"  Have  patience,  my  child.  They  are  but 
the  signs  of  the  last  days.  Jesus  will  come 
and  convert  the  whole  world  to  Islam,  and  then 
all  wrong  shall  cease.  But  till  then,  we  must 
be  resigned  to  our  fate.  But  read  me  a  little 
of  Rahman,  my  favorite  poet,  to  divert  my 
mind.  Give  me  my  old  favorite,  '  The  Three 
are  Just  the  Same,'  "  he  said. 


1 68  RUHA1NAH. 

Ruhainah  ran  and  brought  a  little  stool,  and 
seating  herself  beside  the  old  man,  as  he  re- 
clined on  his  cot,  read  a  few  verses  from  the 
national  poet  of  the  Afghans,  with  a  soft, 
sweet  cadence  on  the  concluding  words  of  each 
couplet : — 

"  The  face  of  one's  beloved,  the  sun,  the  moon,  all 

three  are  just  the  same  ; 
Her  figure,  the  cypress,  and  the  fir-tree,  all  three 

are  just  the  same. 

No  need  have  I  for  honey,  nor  for  sugared  sweets, 
Honey,  sugar,  and  my  mistress1  lips,  all  three  are 
just  the  same. 

If  I  on  my  couch  recline,  of  my  true  love  bereft, 
Lo  !  fire,  the  bare  earth,  iny  couch,  all  three  are 
just  the  same. 

May  God  ne'er  cause  my  exile  from  His  love  to 

know, 
Tyranny,  murder,  and  this  exile,  all  three  are  just 

the  same. 

The  instant  that  a  mortal  from  this  world  departs, 
Black  earth,  white  silver,  gold,  all  three  are  just 
the  same. 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  169 

When  the  devotee,  in  very  truth,  to  devotion  doth 

resort, 
A  prince,  a  king,  and   he,  all  three  are  just  the 

same. 

No  one  should  wanderings  make  into  a  foreign 

land, 
For  there  blind,  deaf,  and  one  who  sees,  all  three 

are  just  the  same. 

In  the  stores  and  in  the  marts  of  jewellers  who  are 

blind, 
Glass  beads,  rubies,  pearls,  all  three  are  just  the 

same. 

Because  of  unwise  rulers,  who  despotic  tyrants  are, 
Hades,  hell-fire,  and  Peshawur,  all  three  are  just 
the  same." 

"  Thank  you,  my  child.  How  beautifully 
you  read ;  your  voice  is  even  more  melodious 
than  the  priest's  when  he  recites  the  night 
prayer." 

"  Oh !  father,  it  is  simply  because  you  love 
me  that  you  think  my  voice  so  sweet,"  and  she 
placed  her  little  hand  upon  his  feverish  fore- 
head. 


170  RUHAINAH. 

"  Remember,  Ruhainah,  that  last  verse  re- 
specting Peshawur  was  written  by  our  poet 
when  the  whole  valley  groaned  under  the  tyr- 
anny of  Moghal  rule.  These  English  (and  as 
he  spoke  in  suppressed  tones,  he  looked  in 
the  direction  of  the  upper  chamber),  these 
English  do  try  to  be  just." 

"Do  they?"  And  the  young  maiden's 
thoughts  wandered  also  in  the  direction  of  the 
upper  chamber. 

"  I  like  this  officer  who  has  been  sent  to  us ; 
he  is  evidently  a  sincere  and  a  truly  brave  man." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  him,  father." 

"  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  although  you  are  not  inter- 
ested in  his  mission  "  (Ruhainah  thought  she 
was),  "  I  must  tell  you  that  it  will  all  tend  to  es- 
tablish my  position  as  one  of  the  leading 
counsellors  of  the  Ameer." 

"  Is  he  an  old  man  ?  "  inquired  Ruhainah, 
with  affected  indifference. 

"Certainly  not ;  he  is  just  in  the  very  prime 
of  life." 

"  Father,  do  not  leave  me,"  she  pleaded,  as 
her  father  rose  from  his  couch,  "  I  do  so  want 
to  talk  with  you." 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  \1\ 

"  My  presence  is  required  in  the  guest- 
house," he  said,  and  the  chieftain  bound  his 
large  white  turban  on  his  head,  and  taking  his 
staff,  returned  to  the  outer  court,  to  join  his 
numerous  guests. 

Ruhainah  and  several  of  the  slave  girls  soon 
began  to  make  preparations  for  the  evening 
meal  of  the  principal  guests,  the  other  women  of 
the  household  preparing  the  meal  for  those 
lady  guests  who  had  attended  Shaidy's  wed- 
ding. Very  special  attention  was  devoted  by 
Ruhainah  to  the  preparation  of  dishes  for  the 
rude  foreigner  who  had  dared  to  send  love 
verses  to  an  Afghan  maiden  he  had  never  seen. 

"  Gulandamah  !  you  must  never  go  to  the 
foreigner's  room  again.  Such  forwardness  ill 
becomes  even  a  serving-maid.  Does  he  like  his 
curry  with  red  pepper?" 

"  How  can  I  tell  ? "  replied  Gulandamah, 
sulkily. 

"  Did  he  enjoy  \fatpeereenee  I  made  yester- 
day? " 

"  Ask  Alak." 

"  You  must  not  be  sulky,  Gulandamah." 

"  Oh,  my  lady,  I  can  never  please  you." 


172  RU HA  IN  AH. 

"Yes,  my  good  girl,  you  always  please  me." 

"Even  when  I  go  to  see  the  foreigner?" 
asked  Gulandamah. 

"  But  you  must  be  very  careful,  or  you  will 
be  caught." 

"  Oh  !  my  good  mistress,  if  you  had  ever 
gazed  on  those  eyes  or  listened  to  the  soft, 
winning  tones  of  that  voice,  you  would  feel  as 
I  do." 

As  the  various  dishes  were  arranged,  Alak 
entered  and  asked  for  those  specially  prepared 
for  the  English  guest ;  which  his  sister  placed 
before  him. 

"  How  nicely  you  have  cooked  them,"  he 
said.  "  I  will  take  them  to  the  foreigner 
myself." 

Ruhainah,  suspecting  treachery,  watched  her 
brother  as  he  carried  the  dishes  away.  Alak 
paused  at  the  door-way  leading  to  the  outer 
court  and  placing  the  tray  on  the  ground  he 
secretly  dropped  into  the  dish  of  plau  the  con- 
tents of  a  small  packet. 

Ruhainah's  watchful  eye  witnessed  the  deed  ; 
but  before  she  could  reason  with  her  brother, 
he  had  passed  beyond  the  limits  of  the  harem. 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  1 73 

What  could  she  do  ?  In  a  few  minutes  the  poi- 
soned dish  would  be  in  the  hands  of  the  stranger 
in  whom  she  had  become  so  deeply  interested. 

"  Gulandamah  !  Gulandamah  !  " 

But  there  was  no  response.  The  little  slave 
girl  was  far  away  in  the  mosque  drawing  water 
at  the  well,  and  consoling  poor  Yusuf. 

She  had  not  a  being  to  help  her.  She  could 
not  expect  sympathy  from  the  other  women  of 
the  harem,  for  only  Gulandamah  knew  her  pe- 
culiar interest  in  the  man  whose  life  was  now 
in  peril.  To  delay  was  foul  murder,  for  in  a  few 
more  seconds  he  would  eat  of  the  poisoned  dish 
and  his  blood  would  be  on  her  own  head.  Nay, 
more,  the  world  would  say  the  Englishman  had 
been  poisoned  by  the  hand  of  Ruhainah  !  Mad- 
dened by  such  a  thought  she  sprang  toward 
the  staircase  and  was  soon  standing  at  the  door 
to  Bernard's  chamber.  Evening  had  set  in,  and 
the  bright  light  within  enabled  her  to  see 
Bernard  seated  on  the  carpet  with  the  poisoned 
dish  before  him. 

She  paused.  "  Thank  God  !  "  she  said  to  her- 
self, "  he  has  not  touched  it.  What  a  hand- 
some face  !  God  help  you  ! " 


174  RUHAINAH, 

Bernard  rose  and  unbuckling  his  sword  and 
pistol  placed  them  on  his  cot. 

"  God  be  praised !  He  will  not  eat !  He  sus- 
pects it  is  poisoned  !  "  she  thought.  Fain 
would  she  open  the  door.  But  she  was  unveiled. 
In  the  hurry  of  her  flight  she  had  not  even  cov- 
ered her  head.  Only  think  of  her  position ! 
Never  had  she  been  allowed  to  speak  to  any 
man  save  to  her  aged  father,  and  Alak,  and 
Akbar  the  slave  and  the  village  barber  ! 

Again  she  looked,  and  as  she  gazed  on  the 
handsome  features  of  the  foreigner  the  respon- 
sive throbbing  of  her  heart  told  her  now  (even 
if  she  had  not  discovered  it  before),  that  she 
really  loved. 

"  How  I  should  like  to  speak  to  him  ! — I  am 
sure  he  would  be  kind ! — He  would  not  injure 
me,  and  I  should  then  hear  the  voice  which 
has  so  charmed  my  slave ! " — And  yet  she  had 
heard  that  English  officers  were  very  wicked ! 
He  might  seize  her  and  take  her  away !  And 
what  if  Alak  found  her  there  ?  Why  he  would 
kill  them  both  ! — Such  were  her  dreamy  mus- 
ings as  she  watched  Bernard  through  the  crevice 
in  the  door.  When  to  her  horror  she  saw  him 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  175 

seat  himself  once  more  on  the  carpet,  and,  hav- 
ing raised  his  hands  in  the  act  of  invocation, 
dip  his  fingers  into  the  poisoned  dish. 

The  life  of  a  human  being  was  in  her  power, 
— her  father's  guest — the  only  man  she  had 
ever  felt  she  loved.  Not  a  moment  must  be 
lost.  As  quick  as  thought  she  thrust  open  the 
door,  and  with  bare  arm,  and  unveiled  face, 
pointed  to  the  poisoned  dish. 

"  It  is  death,"  she  cried,  and  fell  senseless  on 
the  floor. 

Not  a  being  was  near,  and  in  his  room  alone 
was  none  other  than  the  beautiful  and  mysteri- 
ous Maid  of  Herat !  The  lovely  daughter  of  his 
hospitable  host !  Bernard  at  once  realized  the 
true  peril  of  his  position.  If  discovered  with 
the  chieftain's  daughter  in  his  chamber  no  power 
on  earth  could  save  him,  for  the  whole  com- 
munity would  be  enraged.  Bolting  the  outer 
door  he  at  once  endeavored  to  lift  her  almost 
lifeless  figure  and  carry  it  outside  to  the  roof 
of  the  harem,  when  to  his  relief  Gulandamah 
appeared  and  assisted  her  young  mistress. 
"  God  bless  you,"  Bernard  said  as  he  released 
her  slender  form  and  placed  her  on  a  rug  which 


1 76  KUHAINAtf. 

Gulandamah  had  spread  just  outside  the  door- 
way, "  God  bless  you,  my  own  guardian  angel," 
he  said.  And  he  felt  the  loving  pressure  of  her 
hand  as  he  parted  from  her  and  quietly  closed 
the  door. 

Such  noble  and  disinterested  conduct  on  the 
part  of  so  beautiful  a  creature  as  Ruhainah  was 
<of  itself  enough  to  draw  out  the  strongest  feel- 
ings in  such  a  chivalrous  nature  as  that  of  Bern- 
ard. But  there  was  an  expression  in  her  eyes 
as  she  seemed  to  awake  to  consciousness  which 
had  enslaved  his  very  soul. 

What  true  nobility  of  character !  and  what 
simplicity  !  what  grace  !  what  a  child  of  nature ! 
Such  were  the  thoughts  which  passed  through 
Bernard's  mind  as  he  seated  himself  on  his 
couch  and  mused  upon  the  romantic  scene 
which  had  just  been  enacted. 

"  I  am  clearly  in  an  awkward  position,  a 
position  which  I  suppose  most  fellows  of  a 
romantic  turn  of  mind  would  envy,  but  it  seems 
highly  probable  that  I  shall  meet  with  the  usual 
fate  of  an  Englishman  in  this  horrid  country." 

His  contemplations  were  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  Alak,  who  found  the  dish  of  plan 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  177 

untouched,  and  the  officer  firmly  holding  his 
revolver. 

"  You  have  eaten  little,  sir,"  said  the  young 
man,  as  he  removed  the  dishes  and  gave  them 
to  his  servant. 

"  That  dish  of  plan  was  too  highly  seasoned," 
said  Bernard  looking  significantly  at  Alak, 
"You  can  leave  me  alone  for  the  night!" 
Sullenly  did  Alak  retrace  his  steps.  His  plot 
had  been  discovered.  How?  He  could  not 
tell !  Not  for  a  single  moment  did  he  suspect 
the  interposition  of  his  sister. 

"  These  foreigners  are  said  to  be  masters  of 
necromancy.  It  must  be  by  some  occult 
science  that  he  discovered  the  poison,"  he 
thought  as  he  descended  the  staircase  and 
secretly  made  away  with  the  poisoned  dish. 

In  the  inner  court  of  the  harem  Ruhainah 
reclined  to  all  appearance  in  vacant  abstrac- 
tion, but  in  reality  she  was  vividly  recalling  the 
strange  incident  of  her  visit  to  Bernard's  cham- 
ber. To  Bernard,  and  even  to  Gulandamah, 
she  had  appeared  unconscious,  but  she  had 
a  distinct  recollection  of  everything  that 
had  occurred.  And  yet  it  all  seemed  a  dream 


1 78  RUHAINAH. 

or  vision.  The  strange  impulse  which  forced 
her  to  forget  all  rules  of  Afghan  etiquette,  and 
to  stand  before  a  foreigner,  and  an- unbeliever, 
unveiled. — The  strong  arms  which  so  tenderly 
and  gently  raised  her  from  the  ground. — The 
intelligent  handsome  face  which  gazed  so  kindly 
upon  her. — The  fervent  blessing  which  came 
from  the  stranger's  lips  as  they  parted. — And 
the  responsive  pressure  of  his  hand,  of  which 
she  had  been  truly  guilty !  The  whole  scene 
all  came  back  to  her  and  she  felt  that  never 
in  her  whole  life  had  she  been  conscious  of 
such  emotions. — It  was  love ! — Passionate  love ! 
Such  as  she  had  often  read  of  in  books  and 
poems,  but  such  as  she  had  never  realized 
before.  And  then  taking  her  little  lamp  she 
read  again  and  again  Bernard's  lines  which  now 
had  obtained  their  fullest  meaning : — 

"  Prudence  sets  great  store  by  name  and  fame, 
Love  casteth  both  away." 

It  was  no  dream  !  It  was  no  romance  !  It 
was  real  life  !  She  had  offered  both  her  "  name 
and  fame  "  at  the  shrine  of  an  unlawful  love  ! 

"  To  love    an  infidel  !  one  who    curses   our 


THE  POISONED  DISH.  1 79 

Prophet !  who  despises  our  holy  book  !  who 
eats  pork  !  who  cuts  his  mushtache  in  an 
unlawful  way  !  what  a  dreadful  sin  !  it  must 
not  be  !  far  better  to  be  like  poor  Shaidy  than 
to  love,  and  to  marry  an  infidel !  " 

"  It  must  not  be,"  and  yet  it  was.  And 
so  fervently,  and  so  passionately  did  the  flame 
of  pure  love  burn  in  the  fair  maiden's  heart, 
that  she  could  not  rest. 

Restless,  and  unable  to  sleep,  she  sought 
solace  in  the  service  of  song ;  and  taking  her 
rebab,  in  the  sweetest  softest  strains  she  sang  :— 

"  Deem  not  thou,  the  maiden  blush 

Ne'er  can  mantle  this  pale  cheek. 
Since  in  vain  I  strive  to  hush 
Thoughts  that  speak. 

Love  for  thee  o'erweighs  my  soul, 
Mocks  each  sober  calm  intent : 

Places  will  beyond  control, 
Shame  can  naught  prevent. 

Yet  if  seeming  bold  to  thee, 

Blindly  led  by  gentle  wiles  ; 
Stranger  eyes  shall  never  see 

How  this  spell  beguiles. 


I  So  RUHAINAH. 

Let  me  seek  the  woodland's  shade, 
Where  soft  winds  shall  bear  my  woe  : 

Hope  may  spring  amid  the  glade ; 
Tears  may  cease  to  flow." 

Bernard  listened  to  the  dulcet  sounds  of 
Ruhainah's  song  as  they  came  through  the 
silent  night  and  penetrated  even  the  stillness 
of  his  lonely  chamber,  but  hardly  did  he  realize 
that  those  words  in  any  way  expressed  the 
young  maiden's  feelings  toward  himself.  The 
extreme  danger  of  his  position  was,  of  itself, 
enough  to  absorb  his  thoughts  ;  still,  ever  and 
anon,  those  sweet  loving  eyes,  and  that  soft 
subtile  form,  would  pass  before  his  vision,  as 
he  pictured  her  standing  erect  before  him,  her 
face  unveiled,  and  her  arm  uncovered,  as  she 
pointed  to  the  poisoned  dish. 


M 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE     OILY     HINDU. 

AJOR  BERNARD  felt  he  must  lose  no 
time  in  taking  some  steps  to  secure  his 
own  safety.  For,  however  friendly  the  chief 
of  Abukilla  might  be,  it  was  very  evident  the 
old  man  could  not  control  the  actions  of  his  son. 

By  means  of  a  liberal  bribe,  he  summoned 
to  his  presence  the  oily  specimen  of  humanity 
known  as  "  Nand  Ram  the  shopkeeper."  They 
had  met  before,  in  former  years,  when  Bernard 
had  employed  the  Hindu  as  a  spy  on  the  British 
frontier. 

"  Bandagee,  at  your  service,"  said  Nand  Ram, 
as  he  stood  in  a  cringing  attitude,  with  folded 
hands  and  lowly  bow.  "  What  is  your  honor's 
command  ?  " 

"  Be  seated.  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  It  is  a 
long  time  since  we  last  met.  How  are  you 
getting  on  ?  " 


1 82  RU HA  IX AH. 

"  Sir!  it  was  bad  enough  in  those  days  when 
the  honest  efforts  of  your  honor's  slave  were 
but  little  appreciated,  but  here  I  am  simply 
between  two  fires." 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Treachery  all  around,  sir.  Not  a  man  or 
woman  to  be  trusted.  The  old  chief  is  honest 
enough,  but  he  has  treachery  in  his  own  family. 
His  son  Alak,  and  the  young  Sheenwaree  wife 
have  turned  the  whole  place  into  a  state  of  pur- 
gatory." 

"You  must  have  a  bad  time  of  it  then." 

"  It  is  difficult  for  a  man  of  my  integrity  to 
serve  three  masters.  I  try  to  be  a  faithful 
servant  of  your  government ;  I  have  to  keep 
in  with  the  Ameer ;  and  I  endeavor  to  serve  the 
interests  of  my  own  chief,  for  there  is  not 
a  better  man  in  the  whole  country  than 
Abdullah." 

"  And  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  you  man- 
age it  all  with  admirable  tact  and  skill." 

The  Hindu  acknowledged  the  compliment 
with  a  salaam. 

"Tell  me,"  said  Bernard,  "what  is  the  matter 
between  Abdullah  and  his  young  wife  ?  " 


THE  OIL  Y  HIND  U.  1 83 

"  Simply  this.  An  old  man  of  seventy  has 
married  a  young  girl  of  sixteen,  and  she  is 
playing  the  very  devil.  But,  perhaps,  you  are 
not  aware  that  the  supreme  influence  in  the  old 
chieftain's  harem  is  that  of  his  favorite  daugh- 
ter?" 

"Well?" 

"  And  the  old  man  won't  marry  her  to  any 
one." 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  is  considered  by  all  of  us  a  disgrace 
that  a  young  maiden  of  seventeen  years  should 
be  unbetrothed." 

" Indeed ! " 

"Yes,  and  what  is  more,  the  chief  of  the 
Sheenwaree  tribe  demands  her  in  marriage." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  anything  regarding  this 
young  girl?"  said  Bernard  affecting  indiffer- 
ence. 

Nand  Ram  drew  near,  and  whispered  : 

"  Her  name  is  Ruhainah.  Her  mother  was  a 
Cashmere  lady  of  great  beauty,  whom,  it  is  said, 
Abdullah  killed  in  a  fit  of  jealousy.  But  some 
say  she  is  the  daughter  of  a  Sudozie  princess 
of  royal  lineage.  It  is  impossible  to  tell  which 


1 84  RUHAINAH. 

is  the  true  story,  for  this  is  an  age  in  which  men 
never  speak  the  truth." 

"  But  what  is  your  own  impression  ?" 

"  I  am  inclined  to  believe  the  Cashmere 
story." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  it  accounts  for  the  great  love  the 
old  man  bears  the  girl.  He  loves  her  because 
he  killed  her  mother." 

" Have  you  ever  seen  her?" 

"  No,  but  I  am  told  she  is  a  maiden  of  the 
most  marvellous  beauty." 

"  But  you  cannot  always  believe  these  re- 
ports," said  Bernard  anxious  to  conceal  his  real 
interest  in  Ruhainah. 

"  Of  course  you  cannot.  But  even  Nurejan, 
the  chief's  young  wife,  says  she  is  very  lovely." 

"Then  you  see  Nurejan  sometimes?"  in- 
quired Bernard  slyly. 

"  Of  course  I  do.  She  is  my  chief  agent.  Her 
friendships  and  her  intrigues  are  so  many  that 
I  find  her  as  good  as  a  dozen  spies." 

"Then  you  are  admitted  into  the  harem?" 

"  No,  she  comes  to  my  shop  to  make  pur- 
chases." 


THE  OIL  Y  HINDU.  185 

"  But  I  thought  ladies  in  this  country  never 
went  abroad  ?  " 

"  Bless  your  life,  they  all  do  it.  Veiled  in  a 
bourka,  who  can  tell  who  visits  the  shop  of  Nand 
Ram?"  and  the  Hindu  chuckled. 

"  Is  Alak  Ruhainah's  ow n  brother  ?  " 

"  No,  by  a  different  mother." 

"  He  seems  to  be  a  young  scoundrel." 

"  Yes.  Have  you  seen  the  red  henna  spot 
in  the  palm  of  his  hand  ?  Alak  is  a  member 
of  the  Guild  of  the  Red  Hand." 

"  The  chief  of  which  I   shot  the  other  day  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  heard  of  it.  I  am  sorry  you  lost 
Dilawar.  He  was  a  faithful  man." 

"  Have  you  heard  from  Cabul  ?  " 

"  I  have  just  got  a  secret  dispatch.  They 
are  difficult  to  get  in  these  days.  Look 
here." 

And  he  unrolled  a  small  piece  of  pink  tissue 
paper,  written  all  over  in  mystic  characters. 

"  Look  at  this,  sir,"  he  said  holding  up  the 
precious  little  document.  "The  runner  who 
brought  this  was  seized  by  one  of  the  Ameer's 
secret  police  and  stripped  to  the  skin,  but  the 
paper  could  not  be  found." 


1 86  RU HA  IN  AH. 

"  I  suppose  he  had  sewn  it  in  the  sole  of  his 
shoe?"  suggested  Bernard. 

"  O !  no — that  is  too  old  a  game.  The  fel- 
low hid  it  in  his  nostril,  and  swore  in  the  Pro- 
phet's name  that  he  was  a  poor  student.  You 
see,  sir,  my  business  is  a  dangerous  one.  Three 
of  my  runners  have  been  murdered  this  year." 

"  Have  you  any  news  from  the  Ameer  re- 
garding myself  ?"  inquired  Bernard. 

i 

"  Yes,  his  highness  will  invite  you  to  Cabul." 

"  But  my  life  is  not  safe  in  this  place  a  sin- 
gle day." 

"  Then  leave  the  fort  at  once." 

"  That  is  impossible.  As  soon  as  Alak  knows 
my  determination  he  will  take  my  life.  He 
has  already  attempted  to  poison  me." 

"  I  know  it.  But  listen  to  me !  If  you  want  to 
escape  you  can  do  it  to-night." 

"  How  ?  " 

"  On  one  condition  I  will  tell  you." 

"  What  are  your  terms?  " 

"  That  you  breathe  not  a  word  of  what  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  to  a  single  member  of  the 
chieftain's  household.  To  no  one,  in  fact." 

"  I  will  swear." 


THE  OIL  Y  HIND  U.  187 

"  Swear  in  the  name  of  God  and  His 
Prophet." 

"  But  I  am  a  Christian." 

"  Then  kiss  the  Injeel" 

"I  do  not  possess  a  New  Testament,  all  my 
baggage  has  been  stolen." 

"  Say  Ram  Ram." 

"  I  cannot  swear  as  an  idolater.  I  give  you 
my  word,  and  that  must  be  enough." 

"  Scarcely." 

"  I  can  also  add  a  promise  of  thousand 
rupees,  if  that  will  satisfy  you  ?  " 

"  Sir,  we  have  a  profound  respect  for  an  En- 
glishman's word,  but  we  like  his  rupees  better !  " 

"  The  thousand  rupees  -shall  be  paid  upon 
my  safe  return  to  India." 

"Then  listen,  Major  Sahib  !  I  told  you  that 
Nurejan,  the  chief's  young  wife,  often  visits 
me.  Well,  yesterday  she  informed  me  that  to- 
night, this  very  night,  will  Musa,  the  chief  of 
her  tribe,  attack  the  fort  and  carry  off  the  beau- 
tiful Maid  of  Herat." 

"Abdullah  must  be  told  of  this," 

"  Stay,  sir !  Have  you  not  promised  to  keep 
my  secret  ?  " 


1 88  RUHAINAH. 

"  True.     It  shall  be  faithfully  kept." 

"  My  sole  reason  for  divulging  the  plot  to 
you  is  this :  You  can  escape  during  the  distur- 
bance. There  will  be  a  great  deal  of  noise,  but 
this  will  be  of  no  consequence  to  you,  you  will 
not  care  to  interfere  in  the  matter.  Let  these 
Afghans  fight  their  own  battles.  And  escape 
for  your  life." 

"  But  how  can  this  be  arranged  ?  " 

"  Sleep  with  your  weapons  by  your  side. 
Your  white  Arab  charger  shall  be  ready  sad- 
dled by  the  time  you  reach  the  court-yard. 
Keep  out  of  Alak's  way,  and  ride  for  your  veiy 
life  to  Jalalabad." 

Little  did  the  treacherous  Hindu  realize  what 
feelings  of  consternation  he  had  excited  in  the 
breast  of  the  Englishman  as  he  coolly  related 
the  plot  for  Ruhainah's  abduction. 

"  Nand  Ram,  you  are  an  excellent  fellow. 
Listen !  I  have  promised  you  a  thousand 
rupees.  But  you  shall  have  more  if  you  will 
make  known  to  me  the  whole  plot." 

"  But  remember,  you  must  not  tell  a  single 
being." 

"  I  have  promised." 


THE  OILY  HINDU.  189 

"  Listen  !     Our  plans  are  these." 
"  Then  you  are  party  to  the  plot  ?  " 
"  Of  course  I  am  !    Hence  the  condition  that 
you  keep  the  whole  thing  secret.    My  dear  sir !  " 
said  the  Hindu,   placing  his  hand  on  Bernard's 
in  a  confidential  manner,  "  my  dear  sir!   Much 
as  Nand  Ram  loves  your  honor's  gold,  he  loves 
his  life  better  !  " 

"  I  quite  understand  that,  my  friend  !  But 
proceed." 

"  Well,  our  scheme  is  as  follows  :  To-night, 
when  they  are  all  fast  asleep,  Nurejan  will 
secretly  unfasten  the  door  of  the  fort,  and 
Musa,  the  Sheenwaree  chief,  will  enter  with  an 
armed  band.  Outside  the  harem  I  shall  place 
a  ladder  whereby  Musa  can  descend  with  his 
Ruhainah."  And  the  old  villain  chuckled  at 
the  thought  of  his  taking  part  in  so  romantic 
an  enterprise.  "  Now,  sir,  while  Musa  and  I 
are  settling  matters  with  the  fair  lady  you  can 
be  far  on  your  way  to  Jalalabad.  There  you 
will  find  my  brother  Ram  Das  who  will  help 
you  on  your  way  to  Cabul." 

"  Nand  Ram,"  said  Bernard  coaxingly,  "  I 
will  reward  you  handsomely  if  you  will  let 


190  RUHAINAH. 

me  divulge  the  whole  plot  to  the  young 
lady." 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Hindu,  "would 
you,  a  foreigner  and  an  alien,  dare  to  violate 
the  sanctity  of  your  host's  harem,  and  converse 
with  a  young  Afghan  maiden  whom  you  have 
never  seen  ?  No,  sir !  Such  is  not  the  custom  of 
this  country.  Take  care  of  yourself,  my  noble 
sir,  and  leave  these  Afghans  to  settle  their  own 
affairs.  Don't,  for  your  life's  sake,  touch  their 
women  or  you  are  a  dead  man  !  " 

Bernard  saw  the  Hindu  was  immoveable, 
and  that  if  he  wished  to  serve  Ruhainah  it 
must  not  be  by  divulging  the  secret. 

"  At  what  time  will  the  attack  on  the  fort  be 
made  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Not  until  early  morn,  just  about  the  time 
that  Ahmad  ascends  the  minaret  to  give  the 
call  to  prayer.  The  people  sleep  soundest  in 
the  morning,  and  besides  this,  it  is  impossible 
for  horsemen  to  escape  down  the  rugged  path- 
way until  the  break  of  day." 

Bernard  felt  that  if  Nand  Ram  remained 
longer  he  might  betray  more  interest  in 
Ruhainah's  affairs  than  was  consistent  with  his 


THE  OIL  Y  HIND  U.  191 

position  as  a  mere  traveller.  He  therefore 
reluctantly  gave  him  permission  to  depart. 

In  a  few  minutes  Abdullah  entered  and 
cheerfully  saluted  his  guest. 

"You  must  find  it  lonely  in  this  room,  Major 
Sahib !  But  you  see  I  am  afraid  to  expose  your 
life  among  a  wild  and  ungovernable  set  of 
people  like  mine." 

"  It  is  very  thoughtful  of  you  to  be  so 
solicitous  regarding  my  safety,"  said  Bernard, 
"  but  I  am  naturally  anxious  to  see  a  little 
more  of  the  people  than  I  have  already  done. 
Travellers  usually  journey  for  the  sake  of  sight 
seeing  !  " 

"And  for  obtaining  information!"  added 
Abdullah  significantly.  "  But  I  have  come  to 
tell  you  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  you 
may  expect  an  invitation  from  Cabul.  How- 
ever, if  you  want  to  see  a  little  of  our  village 
life,  you  can  do  so  this  evening,  for  I  have  a 
large  number  of  guests  from  all  parts  of  the 
country,  and  as  my  daughter's  nuptials  are 
scarcely  over,  we  intend  to  have  a  special 
gathering.  You  will  then  see  something  of 
Afghan  life." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 

AT  sunset,  when  the  toils  of  the  day  were 
over,  the  villagers  and  their  chief 
assembled  in  the  guest-chamber  of  the  fort 
to  pass  the  evening  with  their  friends  in  joyous 
merriment  and  social  intercourse. 

A  prominent  personage  in  the  festive 
gathering  was  Ahmad,  the  village  priest, 
whose  reputation  as  a  poet  exceeded  that  of 
any  living  Afghan,  and  whose  genial  qualities 
made  him  a  welcome  visitor  to  the  Hujrah  of 
the  fort. 

Seated  beside  the  priest  was  Shahbaz,  the 
jester,  who  in  more  prosperous  days  had  en- 
livened even  the  revels  of  princes. 

Then,  there  were  strangers  from  the  almost 
unknown  regions  of  Central  Asia,  now  on  their 
way  to  Bombay  to  embark  on  the  Meccan  pil- 
grimage; merchants,  with  grapes  and  dried 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER.  193 

fruits  for  Calcutta  ;  coolies  seeking  employment 
in  India;  Mohmund  and  Sheenwaree  vil- 
lagers, and  Khyber  robbers ;  and,  above  all,  the 
village  minstrels  helped  to  form  the  motley 
group. 

Akbar,  the  slave,  handed  round  the  pipe  to 
the  heterodox,  and  supplied  pure  spring  water 
to  the  thirsty  souls  of  the  faithful. 

"Are  you  fond  of  our  music?"  inquired 
Abdullah  of  Bernard. 

"Your  band  performed  with  commendable 
vigor  at  your  daughter's  wedding,"  Bernard 
replied,  "but  I  have  heard  too  little  to  give  an 
opinion  as  to  its  merits.  It  reminds  me  of  the 
bagpipes  of  Scotland." 

"Ah,  those  soldiers  in  petticoats,"  said 
Abdullah,  "  they  look  like  dancing  girls,  but, 
by  the  Prophet,  they  fight  like  fiends." 

"  What  have  you  specially  good  in  music  ?  " 
inquired  Abdullah  of  the  chief  minstrel. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  Zakhmee,  sir?  It  is  a 
new  tune  by  that  famous  poet  Meera." 

"You  don't  call  Meera  a  poet,"  exclaimed 
Ahmad.  "  He  is  but  a  mere  rhymer." 

"  Reverend  sir  !  may  my  life  be  sacrificed  for 


194  RUHAINAH. 

you !  I  dare  not  hazard  an  opinion  as  to 
Meera's  excellence  as  a  poet, 'but  this  tune 
of  his  will  be  sung  when  our  names  are  for- 
gotten." 

"After  your  exalted  name  is  forgotten,"  said 
the  jester.  "  But  please  remember  that  the 
names  of  Ahmad  and  Shahbaz  will  be  fresh  and 
green  when  your  lutes  and  lyres  are  as  silent  as 
the  cold  earth.  Although  "  the  rose  bloom  lon^ 
it  bloometh  not  forever,"  as  our  great  poet 
saith. 

"  Well,  give  us  a  little  of  Zakhmee"  said  the 
chieftain. 

Marshalled  by  a  few  vigorous  strokes  on  the 
drum  the  minstrels  took  their  lutes  and  rebabs 
and  with  the  greatest  animation  played  the 
popular  air,  as  Shahbaz  the  jester  kept  time 
with  his  hands  and  lips. 

Zakhmee,  which  has  since  had  a  world-wide 
fame,  ran  thus  : — 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


»95 


11  Afreen,  Afreen  !  Well  done  !  "  shouted  the 
whole  party,  "  there  is  not  a  minstrel  equal  to 
Meera  even  in  Persia  itself." 

"  It  is  strange  that  our  Prophet  forbade 
music,"  said  an  old  white-bearded  traveller 
enjoying  a  vigorous  pull  at  the  pipe  in  a  distant 
corner  of  the  chamber. 

"The  injunction  rests  on  a  disputed  tradition 
of  the  Prophet's  sayings,"  remarked  the  priest, 
"  but  it  is  almost  certain  that  his  majesty 
forbade  smoking,"  he  added,  smiling  at  the  old 
man. 

"  And  yet,  how  common  smoking  has 
become,"  said  Abdullah.  "  In  these  days  both 
saints  and  sinners  use  tobacco." 


196  KUHAtNAtf. 

"  But  the  Akhund  of  Swat  has  forbidden 
smoking,"  said  a  young  student. 

"Yes,  and  even  snuff,"  said  Shahbaz  the  jester, 
looking  at  Mullah  Ahmad,  who  was  an  inveter- 
ate snuff-taker.  "  But  cheer  up,  boys.  Let  us 
have  another  song." 

"  I  would  like  to  put  a  question  to  this  assem- 
bly, if  I  may,"  said  a  poor  student  in  tatters. 

"  No  !  Let  us  have  the  song,"  said  several. 

"  Let  the  young  man  put  his  question,"  said 
Abdullah  with  authority. 

"  Well,  sir,  it  is  a  question  of  arithmetic.  A 
few  days  ago  I  and  a  young  friend  of  mine 
were  seated  on  the  floor  of  our  mosque 
dining  off  eight  loaves  of  bread, — three  of 
which  were  mine  and  five  belonging  to  my  fel- 
low student, — when  a  rich  traveller  came  that 
way  and  begged  that  he  might  join  us  in  our 
frugal  repast.  We  consented,  and  we  all  three 
ate  equally.  When  our  rich  friend  departed 
he  generously  threw  us  eight  rupees.  Of  course, 
I  expected  to  share  and  share  alike.  But  my 
fellow  student  will  only  give  me  three  rupees, 
one  for  each  loaf  and  insists  upon  keeping  five 
rupees  himself." 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER.  197 

"  It  is  shameful !  "  exclaimed  the  guests,  "  he 
should  certainly  give  you  half  the  money." 

"  Stay  !  "  said  Mullah  Ahmad,  assuming  the 
dignity  of  a  judge.  "  Stay,  my  young  friend  !  if 
you  want  it  decided  according  to  strict  justice, 
verily  thou  shouldest  take  three  rupees  and  be 
grateful,  for  of  a  truth  only  one  rupee  is  thy  just 
due.  That  is  correct,  is  it  not,  sir?  "he  said, 
turning  to  Major  Bernard. 

The  poor  student  was  bewildered,  and  began 
to  calculate  the  sum  on  his  five  fingers. 

"  I  will  explain  the  sum  for  you,  young  man," 
said  the  priest.  "  You  were  three  persons  with 
eight  loaves  and  you  ate  equally  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  if  each  loaf  were  divided,  there  would 
be  eight  shares  falling  to  the  lot  of  each, 
making  twenty-four  shares  in  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly." 

"  The  traveller  then  ate  seven  portions  belong- 
ing to  thy  fellow  student  and  only  one  belong- 
ing to  thee.  Thou  art  therefore  only  entitled 
to  one  rupee.  That  is  justice." 

"  Verily,  thou  art  a  Solomon ! "  exclaimed 
Shahbaz." 


198  RUHAINAH. 

"  Mullah  Ahmad  is  correct,"  said  Bernard. 

The  poor  student  was  still  calculating  the 
twenty-four  shares  on  his  five  fingers,  when  a 
tall  thin  man  in  a  camels'  hair  choga  with  a 
thin  voice  said  :  "  A  strange  story  reaches  us 
from  the  mountains  of  Terah." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  inquired  several. 

"  Why,  a  man  in  the  village  of  Gamoo  was  mur- 
dered, and  his  next  of  kin  wasa  beautiful  maiden 
of  some  fourteen  years,  his  only  daughter.  And, 
by  the  Prophet,  she  insisted  upon  being  the 
avenger  of  blood.  The  assassin  was  caught, 
brought  into  the  fair  maiden's  presence,  and 
let  loose,  and  then  the  young  girl  sprang  upon 
him  like  a  lioness  and  plunged  her  dagger  into 
the  murderer's  heart." 

"  Those  Terah  girls  have  the  spirit  of 
tigresses,"  said  one  of  the  guests. 

"  They  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the 
Khutak  girls,"  said  Mullah  Ahmad.  "  Why 
only  the  other  day  a  Khutak  maid  was  forced  to 
marry  against  her  will,  and  she  plunged  a  dag- 
ger into  the  bridegroom's  breast  the  very 
moment  she  saw  him." 

"  Moulavie  Sahib,"   said    Abdullah   anxious 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER.  199 

to  change  the  subject,  for  he  thought  of  his 
little  Shaidy,  "  tell  the  major  your  famous 
story  of  the  ascetic  from  Cabul." 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  so  the  story  runs,"  said 
the  priest,  "  there  lived  a  saintly  man  who 
having  spent  many  years  alone  in  the  desert, 
in  severe  penance  and  ascetic  mortification, 
determined  to  see  a  little  more  life,  and  he  came 
to  the  city  of  Cabul." 

"  Where  there  is  enough  wickedness  even  to 
satisfy  Pharaoh,  king  of  Egypt,"  added  Shahbaz. 

"  Well,  he  came  to  the  city  of  Cabul,  and 
there  in  the  great  market  place  which  the 
English  destroyed"  he  said,  looking  at  Major 
Bernard,  "  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  the 
din  and  bustle  of  the  world,  and  a  gay  and 
thoughtless  round  of  revelry  and  pleasure. 
Feeling  much  oppressed  and  tired,  he  begged 
permission  to  sleep  in  front  of  a  tradesman's 
shop.  But  as  he  lay  down  to  slumber  he  said 
to  himself :  '  How  shall  I  know  that  I  am  my- 
self when  I  awake  amid  all  this  noise  and 
excitement  ? '  A  sudden  thought  struck  him. 
He  had  some  pumpkins  in  his  scarf,  and  taking 
one  of  them  he  tied  it  to  his  leg,  and  said  he  : 


200  RUHAINAH. 

'  Now,  when  I  awake  I  shall  know  that  I  am 
myself,  when  I  see  the  pumpkin.'  But,  a  cer- 
tain wag  passed  that  way,  and  beholding  the 
gourd  tied,  to  the  good  man's  leg  unloosed 
it,  and  tied  it  to  his  own,  and  fell  asleep  beside 
the  saint.  The  ascetic  awoke,  and  seeing  the 
pumpkin  fastened  to  the  leg  of  another  man,  in 
bewilderment,  exclaimed : 

"  '  Whether  I  be  I  or  no  ? 

If  I,  the  pumpkin  why  on  you  ? 

If  you  ?  then  where  am  I  ?  and  who  ? ' ' 

"  Shahbash  !  Afreen  !  well  done  !  "  exclaimed 
the  party,  in  which  Bernard  joined. 

"  This  story  is  really  told,"  said  the  priest, 
"  by  the  Persian  poet  Jami,  but  I  have  given  an 
Afghan  version  of  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bernard,  "  I  remember  reading  it 
in  my  Persian  studies.  Those  are  fine  senti- 
ments of  the  poet  where  he  says : — 

"  '  Celestial  beauty  seen 

He  left  the  earthly  :  and  once  came  to  know 
Eternal  love,  he  let  the  mortal  go.'  " 

Shahbaz  the  jester  was  about  to    favor   the 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER.  2Ol 

convivial  party  with  a  song,  when  the  whole 
audience  was  hushed  into  solemn  silence  as  the 
plaintive  voice  of  young  Yusuf  gave  forth  the 
call  to  prayer  from  the  minaret  of  the  mosque : — 

"  God  is  great ! 

"  There  is  no  God  but  God  ! 

"  Mohamed  is  His  prophet ! 

"  Come  to  prayer  ! 

"  Come  to  salvation  !  " 

And  as  the  melancholy  notes  were  heard 
floating  through  the  air  in  the  stillness  of  the 
cool  moonlit  evening,  the  old  chieftain  of 
Abukilla  raised  his  hands  in  fervent  supplication 
and  said  :  "  O  thou  great  God  !  I  have  no  power 
or  strength  but  in  Thee !  " 

"  Ameen"  said  the  priest. 

Abdullah  and  his  guests  adjourned  to  the 
mosque  for  night  prayer,  and  Major  Bernard 
accompanied  by  Alak  went  to  the  upper 
chamber. 

Closing  the  door,  Bernard,  seizing  his  revolver, 
placed  his  hand  on  Alak's  shoulder,  and  pre- 
senting the  muzzle  of  his  pistol  to  the  young 
man's  heart,  he  said  with  firmness  : 

"  Young  man,  listen !  by  a  secret    influence 


202  RUHAINAH. 

unknown  to  you  I  am  aware  that  you  are 
attempting  to  take  my  life.  To  poison  me, 
in  fact !  " 

Alak  grew  deadly  pale  and  trembled. 

"  Now  remember,"  Bernard  continued.  "  I 
am  not  afraid  to  die.  I  have  often  in  my  life 
faced  death.  But  I  want  you  to  understand 
that  it  is  only  in  consideration  of  your  father  " 
(Bernard  had  almost  said  "  your  sister  "),  "  that  I 
spare  your  life.  Or,  by  God  !  you  would  lie 
dead  at  my  feet  this  very  moment." 

"  Sir !  "  said  Alak,  releasing  himself  from 
Bernard's  iron  grip.  "  Sir !  I  have  a  vow  upon 
me.  The  Avenger  of  Blood  is,  as  you  know, 
an  institution  of  our  religion  and  of  our  coun- 
try. I  am  a  member  of  Hasan's  guild,  and  I 
must  avenge  his  death." 

"  Avenge  it  then  as  a  man  of  courage,  and 
not  as  an  assassin." 

"  You  shall  be  safe,"  said  Alak,  "  as  long  as 
you  are  my  father's  guest." 

"  On  one  condition  do  I  spare  you  :  you  shall 
taste  every  dish  you  offer  me." 

Alak,  having  left,  Bernard  was  preparing  for 
the  eventful  night,  when  his  door  gently 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER.  203 

opened,  and  there  stood  before  him  a  tall,  spare 
man,  clad  in  a  sheepskin  coat,  and  armed  with 
pistol,  sword  and  dagger. 

"  I  am  late,  sir,"  said  the  stranger  in  a  husky 
voice,  "but  now  all  true  Moslems  are  prostrate 
in  the  mosque,  I  have  come  to  obtain  your 
assistance." 

"  Sit  down.  What  is  the  nature  of  your 
request?  " 

"  Sir,  the  chief's  son   says  you  are  an  adept 
in  all  the  learned  sciences." 
.  "  Oh  !  he  has  made  that  discovery,  has  he  ?  " 
said  Bernard,  smiling. 

"  Well,  sir !  I  have  no  doubt  you  have  studied 
chemistry  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  little." 

"  Sir !  have  you  such  a  thing  as  a  poison, 
which,  if  put  into  a  man's  food,  would  not  take 
effect  until  a  few  days  afterward  ?" 

"I  have  no  medicines  with  me.  But  may  I 
ask,  for  what  purpose  you  want  it  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  poison  my  enemy?" 

"  And  you  want  me  to  assist  you  in  a  foul 
murder  ?  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself?  " 
exclaimed  Bernard,  in  anger. 


204  R  UNA  IN  AH. 

"  Don't  be  angry,"  pleaded  the  stranger.  "If 
you  will  only  listen  to  me,  I  will  tell  you  why 
I  want  that  poison,  and  you  will  then  see  that, 
after  all,  I  am  not  such  a  bad  man  as  you  think 
me." 

"I  am  open  to  conviction,"  replied  Bernard. 
"Proceed  !" 

"  Well,  sir,  some  years  ago  an  enemy  of 
mine  sought  to  take  my  life,  and  one  night  he 
came  to  my  dwelling  when  we  were  all  asleep 
outside  our  houses.  Creeping  stealthily  to  my 
cot  he  plunged  his  dagger  into  the  quilt.  But 
it  happened  that  I  was  not  sleeping  on  my 
charpoy  that  night.  But  my  favorite  daughter 
was.  And  the  villain's  dagger  had  pierced  the 
heart  of  my  beloved  child.  Well,  sir!  I  swore 
over  the  bleeding  body  of  my  murdered  child 
that  I  would  avenge  her  death,  and  for  several 
years  I  endeavored  to  take  that  man's  life. 
And  one  day  he  came  into  my  presence  and 
begged  for  mercy." 

"And  you  forgave  him  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  did.  But  you  know,  sir,  an  Afghan 
never  forgives.  And  take  that  man's  life  I  will. 
Now,  when  Alak  told  me  that  you  were  a 


THE  GUEST-CHAMBER.  205 

master  of  alchemy,  I  thought  to  myself  '  Then 
he  can  give  me  the  very  poison  I  want.'  Now, 
if  you  could  give  me  poison  which  would  take 
effect  about  a  week  after  it  is  administered, 
I  would  invite  that  fellow  to  dinner,  and  drop  a 
little  into  his  food.  He  would  go  home  and 
die.  And  not  a  soul  would  know  who  killed 
him.  I  should  then  have  my  revenge,  and  yet 
pass  as  a  man  of  honor  among  my  tribe." 

"  You  Afghans  are  certainly  a  strange  peo- 
ple," said  Bernard.  "  You  call  yourselves  '  Bene 
Israel}  but  some  of  you  must  be  '  Bene  Shai- 
tdn '  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  stranger ;  "  that  man  for 
whom  I  wanted  the  poison  is  truly  a  son  of 
Satan." 

"But  there  are  angels  among  you,"  said 
Bernard  to  himself  as  he  thought  of  the  fair 
girl  whom  he  was  determined  to  rescue  that 
very  night. 

"You  may  leave,"  he  said  to  the  husky 
stranger,  as  he  opened  the  door. 

The  door  secured,  Bernard  armed  himself  for 
the  night.  At  any  cost,  even  at  the  peril  of  his 
own  life,  should  Ruhainah's  honor  be  defended. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE    ABDUCTION. 

THE  village  watchman  was  wearing  weary 
with  the  night  watch,  as  the  cock-crowing 
announced  the  dawning  of  the  morn ;  and  the 
village  priest  had  scarcely  given  forth  the  morn- 
ing call  "  prayers  are  better  than  sleep  "  when  a 
huge  stone  hurled  from  a  distance  felled  the 
faithful  sentinel  to  the  ground. 

Musa,  the  Sheenwaree  chief,  and  a  band  of 
violent  men,  then  entered  the  door  of  the  fort, 
and  were  soon  engaged  in  a  deadly  conflict  with 
Alak  and  his  father's  sturdy  retainers. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  confusion  in  the 
outer  court,  Musa  entered  the  harem,  and,  by  a 
single  sword-cut  laid  Abdullah  helpless  on  his 
bed,  as  Nurejan  the  arch-traitress  hid  her 
treachery  amid  the  most  frantic  yells  of 
"  wai,  wai." 

"  Help !  "  shouted  Gulandamah  rushing  into 


THE  ABDUCTION.  207 

Bernard's  room.  But  the  chamber  was  unoccu- 
pied ;  the  officer  had  descended  to  the  Hujrah 
in  search  of  his  Arab  charger,  and  was  not  to  be 
found. 

There  was  some  delay,  as  Major  Bernard 
had  to  carefully  avoid  detection.  And,  in 
the  meantime,  Musa  the  Sheenwaree  chief 
had  seized  Ruhainah  and  with  Nand  Ram's 
assistance  carried  her  from  the  roof  to  the 
outside  of  the  fort. 

Bernard  found  his  white  Arab  charger,  as 
Nand  Ram  had  promised,  ready  saddled,  and 
mounting  his  horse  galloped  out  of  the  fort, 
and  was  soon  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  man  who 
held  possession  of  the  beautiful  maiden  he  so 
passionately  loved. 

Musa  had  a  fair  start  of  his  pursuer,  and  it 
was  fully  a  half  an  hour's  race  before  Bernard 
came  upon  the  Sheenwaree  chief  with  his  help- 
less burden. 

Holding  Ruhainah's  slender  form  in  front  of 
him  on  the  saddle,  Musa  was  urging  his  horse 
at  frantic  speed  when  the  Englishman  came 
within  a  few  paces  of  him. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Bernard,  "  or  I  will  fire." 


208  RUHAINAH. 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  when  two 
bullets  from  Musa's  pistol  whizzed  past  his 
head. 

"  Stop !  or  I  will  fire,"  repeated  Bernard. 

"  Fire !  you  infidel !  Fire !  "  cried  Musa  as  he 
held  the  helpless  form  of  Ruhainah  before  him. 

Ruhainah,  hearing  a  voice,  awoke  to  con- 
sciousness and  by  a  desperate  effort  freed  her- 
self from  Musa's  grasp  and  fell  senseless  to  the 
earth.  As  quick  as  thought  Bernard  engaged 
the  chief  in  close  combat. 

English  officers  are  not  as  used  to  single  com- 
bat as  an  Afghan  warrior,  and  Musa  had  the 
manifest  advantage  in  the  weight  of  his  weapon. 
Bernard  was  clearly  losing  ground,  when  he 
remembered  'a  favorite  thrust  he  had  learned 
at  college,  and  drawing  his  charger  a  few  paces 
back  rushed  with  fury  upon  his  opponent  and 
pierced  his  heart. 

"  Allah  ! "  cried  Musa,  as  he  fell  dead  on  the 
ground. 

A  scream  of  horror  escaped  the  lips  of  Ruh- 
ainah, as  she  beheld  the  chief  stretched  lifeless 
on  the  cold  earth. 

Major  Bernard  was  now  in  sole  possession 


THE  ABDUCTION.  209 

of  the  Fair  Maid  of  Herat.  He  gently  raised 
her  from  the  ground,  and  Ruhainah,  clad  in 
the  milk-white  folds  of  the  modest  garment 
which  so  artfully  concealed  the  fair  proportions 
of  her  graceful  form,  lay  on  his  manly  breast, 
as  her  luxuriant  tresses,  wafted  in  the  morn- 
ing breeze,  covered  the  brave  arm  which  had 
so  nobly  defended  her  honor  and  her  life. 

Softly  and  stealthily  opening  her  beautiful 
eyes  Ruhainah  beheld  the  gallant  knight  who 
had  fought  so  bravely  in  her  cause,  and  endeav- 
oring to  release  herself  from  his  impassioned 
embrace,  she  exclaimed : 

"  O  Sahib  !  is  it  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  little  rose,  it  is  I." 

"Where  is  my  father?  Where  is  Alak?  " 

"  God  alone  knows.  I  left  them  defending 
the  fort." 

"  But  are  we  alone?" 

"Yes,"  and  Bernard  was  conscious  that  she 
clung  to  him  for  protection,  as  he  uttered  the 
simple  monosyllable. 

"  Ruhainah,"  he  said,  addressing  her  by  name. 
"  Ruhainah,  you  must  trust  yourself  to  me." 

"  But    you    foreigners   are  so  wicked !     My 


210  RUHAINAH, 

father  has  often  told  me  the  dreadful  things  you 
did  in  Cabul." 

"We  are  not  all  bad,"  said  Bernard  smiling 
at  the  girl's  simplicity.  "  At  all  events  you 
are  alone  and  there  is  not  a  soul  to  help  you. 
You  saved  my  life,  and  now  I  have  saved  yours. 
You  must  trust  me."  And  he  tenderly  kissed 
her  hand. 

"  Indeed  I  will,"  and  she  nestled  so  confidently 
and  trustfully  beneath  his  long  flowing  beard. 

"  You  will  take  me  to  my  father,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will.  Do  you  think  I  am 
going  to  run  away  with  you  ?" 

"  Oh !  I  was  so  frightened.  The  villain 
seized  me  when  I  was  asleep  and  put  his  hand 
on  my  mouth  and  I  could  not  give  the  alarm," 
she  said,  as  she  put  her  head  on  his  lap  and 
wept. 

"  Don't  cry,  my  dear  little  maid.  I  will  put 
you  on  my  horse  and  walk  by  your  side,  and 
take  the  greatest  care  of  you." 

"  But  some  of  Musa's  followers  will  soon  be 
here,  and  they  will  kill  you  and  carry  me  away," 
she  rejoined. 


THE  ABDUCTION.  211 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  my  little  rose,  I  think  I 
am  ready  for  them,"  and  Bernard  seized  his 
revolver. 

"  How  brave  you  are  !  "  she  said,  looking  at 
him  with  tearful  eyes,  and  with  an  expression 
of  undisguised  pride  and  admiration.  "  Why, 
you  are  as  brave  as  the  '  Rustum  of  Herat.' 
But  it  is  very  wrong  for  me  to  stay  with  you, 
Major  Sahib,  alone  in  this  place,"  she  added, 
releasing  herself  from  Bernard's  warm  embrace 
coquettishly. 

Tenderly  covering  her  with  his  large  sheep- 
skin coat,  he  lifted  her  to  his  charger  and 
they  proceeded  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the 
fort. 

"  Listen  !  they  are  coming  !  Oh  !  what  shall 
I  do?  "  she  cried  with  alarm. 

A  cloud  of  dust  in  the  distance  clearly  indi- 
cated the  rapid  approach  of  horsemen. 

"  Ruhainah  !  can  you  fire  a  pistol?  "  he  said, 
handing  his  revolver. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  her  eyes  flashing  with 
determination.  "  I  once  helped  in  defending 
our  caravan  on  the  way  from  Herat." 

"  My  brave  girl !  then  stay  where  you  are, 


212  RUHAINAH. 

hold  tight  on  the  horse,  and  as  they  ap- 
proach fire  into  them,  and  then  gallop  for  your 
life." 

"  And  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

"  Kill  the  rest.  Take  good  aim  as  they  come 
in  sight,  my  dear  girl."  Bernard  stood  amazed 
as  he  saw  the  delicate  young  girl  resolutely 
prepare  herself  for  the  attack  with  all  the  cool- 
ness and  deliberation  of  a  trained  warrior. 

But  the  alarm  was  needless,  for  the  party 
consisted  of  her  brother  Alak  and  six  mounted 
retainers. 

"Afreen  !  Afreen  !  "  shouted  Alak,  as  he  saw 
his  sister  on  Bernard's  horse.  "  Where  is  the 
Kafir?" 

"  There,"  said  Bernard  pointing  to  the  bleed- 
ing corpse  of  the  dead  chief. 

"  The  foreigner  is  a  good  shot,"  said  Alak, 
addressing  his  men,  as  they  dismounted  and 
offered  Bernard  one  of  their  horses.  "  But  let 
us  return  to  the  fort  without  delay.  We  must 
keep  all  together,  for  at  any  moment  we  may 
be  attacked." 

They  rode  fast,  and  Bernard  saw  that  the 
plucky  Afghan  girl  could  not  only  fire  a  pistol, 


THE  ABDUCTION.  213 

but  ride  a  somewhat  restive  steed  under  the 
most  trying  circumstances. 

"  Your  sister  will  be  tired,"  he  said  to  Alak. 

"  No,  she  won't  be  very  tired,"  replied  Alak. 
"  It  is  not  the  first  time  she  has  ridden.  My 
father  taught  her  to  ride,  for  the  old  man 
always  said  that  in  a  country  like  this  we  never 
knew  when  we  should  have  to  flee  for  our  very 
lives.  The  '  Rustum  of  Herat,'  sir,  is  a  re- 
markable man,  but  I  am  afraid  the  good  old 
saint's  hours  are  numbered." 

"Why?" 

"  He  is  badly  wounded." 


After  a  brisk  ride,  they  entered  the  fort. 
Dismayed  attendants  were  running  in  every  di- 
rection in  the  wildest  excitement,  and  the  whole 
place  presented  a  scene  of  carnage  which  told 
with  what  desperate  resistance  Alak  and  his  men 
had  defended  the  fort.  Not  fewer  than  eight  of 
M usa's  followers  lay  stretched  dead  on  the 
ground,  while  five  more  were  prisoners  bound 
hand  and  foot,  and  suffering  from  the  most 
ghastly  wounds. 


214  RUHAINAH. 

Alak  tenderly  lifted  his  sister  from  her 
horse,  when  she  ran  hastily  into  the  inner  court 
of  the  harem,  where  she  found  the  old  chieftain 
lying  on  his  couch  dangerously  wounded. 

"  Father  !  father,  speak !  " 

"  Is  that  Ruhainah  ?  Thanks  be  to  God  ! 
O  lift  me  up."  And  the  women  in  attendance 
raised  his  pillows. 

"Dear  child,"  he  said,  placing  his  trembling 
hand  upon  his  daughter's  head,  "  my  dear 
child,  my  race  is  nearly  run.  It  is  God's  will ; 
we  cannot  resist  the  decrees  of  the  Almighty." 

"Oh,  father!  You  won't  die!  You  must 
not  die  !  Ruhainah  cannot  live  without  her 
father!" 

"  Wai!  wai!"  shouted  the  Sheenwaree 
wife  in  feigned  grief,  when  the  whole  company 
of  wives  and  slaves  raised  a  mournful  wail* of 
lamentation,  and  beat  their  breasts  and  tore 
their  hair  in  the  wildest  excitement. 

"Silence!"  said  Alak,  "  this  is  not  the  time 
for  lamentation.  The  Rustum  of  Herat  is  not 
dead  yet." 

"  Where  is  the  Englishman  ? "  exclaimed 
Abdullah. 


THE  A  BD  UCTION.  2 1 5 

'  Outside  in  the  Hujrah." 

"  Bring  him  here  instantly,"  said  Abdullah. 

"O  father!  do  not  be  angry  with  him,  it  was 
not  his  fault.  He  saved  my  life,  indeed  he 
did." 

"  Peace,  my  child !  I  know  it,  but  I  must  see 
him  before  I  die.  Send  the  women  away." 

"  Must  I  leave  also  ?  "  said  Alak. 

"  No,  you  must  stay  as  a  witness,  and  so  must 
Mullah  Ahmad,  for  in  the  presence  of  two  wit- 
nesses my  word  will  be  established." 

With  a  firm  step,  and  with  his  hand  on  the 
hilt  of  his  sword  Major  Bernard  entered  the 
harem  and  approached  the  couch  on  which 
Abdullah  lay. 

Abdullah  extending  his  hand  whispered, 
"  Thou  art,  of  a  truth,  a  true  Afghan." 

Bernard  knelt  by  his  bed  and  taking  the 
chief's  hand  said, "  Sir,  this  is  the  proudest  day  of 
my  life." 

And  as  he  said  the  words  his  eyes  met 
those  of  Ruhainah.  It  was  that  sweet  look 
which  had  so  captivated  him  from  the  very  first 
and  which  reminded  him  of  past  years. 

"  Major  Sahib  !  I  am  dying  !     The  angel  of 


216  RUHAINAH. 

death  is  waiting  to  discourse  with  me,  and  my 
time  is  short.  There  are  several  things  I  must 
tell  you  before  I  die." 

"  If  they  are  secrets  of  state  had  we  better 
not  be  alone?"  said  Bernard. 

"That  is  not  necessary.  Nay,  rather  it  is  of 
great  importance  that  my  words  be  affirmed  by 
witnesses. 

"  Listen,  Ruhainah  !   listen,  Alak  !  " 

The  dying  man  became  unconscious,  ere  he 
could  say  more.  The  whole  four,  Bernard, 
Ruhainah,  Alak  and  the  priest,  waited  with 
almost  breathless  anxiety.  Would  the  secret, 
after  all,  die  with  him  ? 

Gradually  he  returned  to  consciousness. 

"  Alak,  raise  me !  Ruhainah,  kiss  me,  my 
child!  My  last  kiss!" 

" O  no,  my  father,  not  your  last" 

"  Yes,  Ruhainah,  my  last''  he  said  with  great 
emphasis.  "  My  last  kiss.  Major,  listen  !  This 
girl,  whose  honor  you  have  so  bravely  protected 
at  the  risk  of  your  own  life,  is  not  my  child. 
God  knows  I  have  loved  her  as  my  own.  But 
she  is  not  mine.  She  belongs  to  your  race — 
she  is  English." 


THE  A  BD  UC  TION.  2 1 7 

"  No,  my  father !  I  am  not  English  !  I  am 
your  own  child  ! "  cried  Ruhainah,  as  she  flung 
herself  upon  the  old  man  and  wept  in  agony, 
kissing  his  lips  over  and  over  again. 

"  Listen,  Ruhainah  !  for  my  breath  fails  me. 
Listen,  Major  Sahib!  It  is  now  seventeen 
years  or  more  since  the  Afghans  destroyed  the 
whole  British  army  in  Cabul.  And  in  the  Jug- 
dalak  pass  on  the  I2th  of  January,  1842,  for  I 
remember  the  Christian  date,  we  had  a  terrible 
death  struggle.  I  was  one  of  Akbar  Khan's 
captains,  and,  as  I  was  urging  on  my  men  I  was 
suddenly  seized  by  an  English  officer  and 
dragged  to  the  ground.  He  fired.  The  En- 
glishman fired  (and  Abdullah  raised  his  sleeve 
and  exhibited  a  bullet  mark  on  his  left  arm),  and 
in  self-defence  I  plunged  my  dagger  into  his 
side.  He  lingered  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
before  he  died  he  said,  '  Spare  my  little  child, 
she  is  there  under  that  rock  in  charge  of  a  Hin- 
du servant,'  and  he  breathed  his  last. 

"  The  child  I  found  in  the  snow,  in  the  stif- 
fened arms  of  a  native  nurse,  who  had  died  from 
the  cold.  I  took  the  little  creature  into  my 
arms,  and,  as  I  kissed  her,  she  placed  her  tiny 


2l8  RUHAINAH. 

fingers  into  my  long  beard,  stained  as  it  was 
with  her  father's  blood,  and  smiled.  The  child 
won  my  heart.  And  she  has  ever  from  that 
moment  loved  me  with  the  truest  devotion — 
that  child  is  Ruhainah." 

Ruhainah  let  go  the  chief's  hand  with  a  look 
of  terror.  And  then  clinging  to  his  neck  wept 
aloud.*  "  O  my  dear  good  father!  You  are  the 
only  father  I  have  ever  known.  I  love  you 
still  and  I  shall  ever  love  you  !  " 

"  Peace,  Ruhainah  !  this  hand  is  stained  with 
your  father's  blood — still,  God  knows,  I  did  it 
in  self-defence.  And  Alak  is  witness  that  I 
have  loved  you  with  even  more  than  a  father's 
love." 

The  dying  man  sunk  into  unconsciousness 
and  it  was  evident  it  was  near  the  end.  Ruhai- 
nah lovingly  bathed  his  forehead  with  rose- 
water,  as  the  priest  prepared  to  recite  the 
offices  for  the  dying,  when  suddenly  Abdullah 
awoke  and  seizing  a  knife  laid  hold  of  Ruhai- 
nah's  neck. 

"  Stay ! "  cried  Bernard,  arresting  the  old 
man's  hand  and  gently  placing  it  on  the 
pillow. 


THE  ABDUCTION.  219 

"You  would  not  kill  me,  father  dear?"  said 
Ruhainah  as  she  kissed  his  forehead.  "  Ruhainah 
loves  you  as  much  as  ever." 

"  No  ! — you  do  not  understand  ! — cut  it ! — 
open  it ! — it  is  all  there  !  "  he  ejaculated. 

"  He  is  delirious,"  said  Bernard.  "  We  must 
watch  him." 

"  My  father,  what  is  it?"  asked  Ruhainah  as 
she  kneeled  before  him. 

"  Open  the  talisman  on  your  neck ! "  he 
exclaimed. 

Ruhainah  removed  the  old  leathern  talisman 
which  she  had  worn  from  her  earliest  childhood, 
and  handed  it  to  Bernard,  who  hastily  cut  it 
open.  There  fell  on  the  cot  a  few  leaves  from 
a  small  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  a  miniature 
portrait,  and  a  lock  of  deep  auburn  hair  the 
very  color  of  Ruhainah's.  Opening  the  leaves 
of  the  little  prayer  book  he  read  on  the  first 
page  the  name  of  "  Lydia  Churton"  and  in 
the  portrait  he  detected  an  unmistakable  resem- 
blance to  the  devoted  girl  whose  beautiful 
Christian  character  had  so  influenced  his  life. 
"  Churton  !  "  Why,  that  was  the  name  of  Sister 
Lydia's  father.  Beyond  doubt  the  mysterious 


220  RUHAINAH. 

Maid  of  Herat  was  none  other  than  Lydia's 
sister. 

Ruhainah  again  took  the  old  chiefs  hand, 
the  very  hand  that  seventeen  years  ago  had  slain 
her  father,  and  turning  to  Bernard  she  pleadingly 
said  : 

"  O  sir,  is  it  really  true  ?  My  father  is  delir- 
ious, it  is  impossible  ?  It  cannot  be  true  ?  This 
hand  could  never  have  slain  my  father?" 

"  Ruhainah,  it  is  true — it  is  all  true — I  know 
your  sister,  she  is  still  living,"  said  Bernard  with 
great  tenderness ;  "  trust  me,  and  all  will  be 
well." 

"Abdullah  !  "  said  Bernard,  rousing  the  dying 
chieftain  to  consciousness.  "  Abdullah  !  do 
you  know  where  Ruhainah's  mother  died  ?  " 

"She  died  in  Cabul." 

"Was  she  killed?" 

"  No,  she  died  of  fever." 

"  Where  was  she  buried  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"Did  you  ever  see  her?" 

"  No,  but  Hasan  the  Khyberee  had  been  the 
captain's  orderly." 

"Where  was  her  father  buried?" 


THE  ABD  UCTION:  2  2 1 

"  I  buried  him  with  my  own  hands  outside  the 
Ziyarat  at  Jagdalak." 

"  Can  I  find  the  grave  ?  " 

"  Yes.  It  is  covered  with  a  large  stone  on 
which  there  is  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Moslems 
hate  the  cross,  but  I  made  it  for  Ruhainah's 
sake.  Ruhainah's  father  was  a  Christian." 

"O  father,  I  am  still  your  child  !  "  Ruhainah 
pleaded.  "  I  am  still  your  child  !  O  my  father, 
do  not  leave  me." 

"  Forgive  me,  Ruhainah  !  I  did  the  deed  in 
self-defence.  God  knows  I  did.  But  I  have 
tried  to  do  with  you  even  that  which  is  right." 

"  Indeed  you  have,  you  dear  old  saint,  and  if 
you  will  only  live  no  other  being  in  this  world 
shall  claim  Ruhainah  as  his  own." 

"  Ruhainah  !  kiss  me  once  more.  Now  listen ! 
I  am  dying — when  I  am  dead  do  as  the  major 
wishes  you,  for  you  will  not  be  safe  in  this  coun- 
try, you  must  be  under  the  foreigner's  protec- 
tion." 

"Sir,"  said  Bernard  taking  Ruhainah's  hand, 
"  give  us  your  blessing." 

Abdullah  raised  both  his  hands,  and  placing 
his  right  hand  on  Bernard's  head  and  his  left 


222  RUHAINAH. 

on  Ruhainah's,  in  broken  accents  said — "The 
God — of  Abraham — of  Ishmael — of  Mohamed 
— bless  you ! " 

"  Alak,"  he  continued,  "  you  must  spare  the 
foreigner's  life.  Moses  demanded  a  life  for  a 
life  —  Jesus  enjoined  forgiveness  —  but  our 
Prophet  (upon  whom  be  peace),  allowed  com- 
pensation. Your  compensation,  Alak,  is  the 
blood  of  Ruhainah's  father." 

Alak  stepped  forward  and  presented  the  hilt 
of  his  sword  to  Bernard  and  with  great  emo- 
tion said,  "  Major,  I  now  swear  to  protect  you, 
for  I  love  my  father,  and  if  you  will  not  consider 
it  presumption  I  tell  you  I  love  Ruhainah  as 
few  Afghans  love  their  sisters.  I  have  always 
said  she  was  too  good  for  this  country." 

The  excitement  of  the  conversation  com- 
pletely exhausted  the  dying  man,  and  he  lay  in 
a  state  of  stupor,  as  Ruhainah  bathed  his  fever- 
ish forehead  with  rich  perfumes.  In  the  mean- 
time the  faur  wives  entered  the  chamber  wail- 
ing in  loud  lamentation. 

"  Leave  the  place !  "  said  Alak  to  the  Sheen- 
waree  wife.  "  This  is  all  your  doing." 

"Alak!  "  said  his  mother  with  dignity,  "this 


THE  ABDUCTION.  223 

is  not  the  time,  nor  the  place,  for  a  strife  of 
words.  You  will  soon  be  chief  of  Abukilla  and 
then  justice  can  be  done.  Till  then  let  Nurejan 
stay." 

"Carry  the  Rustum  of  Herat  into  the  guest- 
chamber  !  "  said  Alak,  "  for  it  has  never  been  that 
the  chief  of  our  tribe  dies  in  the  seclusion  of 
the  harem." 

And  the  cot  on  which  the  dying  chieftain  lay 
was  carried  forth  amid  the  frantic  cries  of  the 
women  of  the  household. 

Ruhainah  stood  speechless  as  she  beheld  her 
faithful  guardian  of  seventeen  years  borne 
away  from  her.  But  as  Bernard's  eyes  met  those 
of  the  lovely  maid,  he  whispered,  "  Ruhainah, 
when  all  is  over  I  must  see  you.  Trust  me.  I 
will  be  to  you  all,  and  even  more,  than  the  good 
old  man  ever  was." 

In  the  hujrah  of  the  fort  a  large  concourse  of 
people  assembled  round  the  couch  of  the  dying 
chieftain,  and,  as  the  old  man  wrestled  with  the 
angel  of  death,  Mullah  Ahmad  the  priest  endea- 
vored to  smooth  the  rough  passage  by  reciting 
verses  from  the  Koran  : 

"  Verily  the  sons  of  paradise  shall  be  in  pos- 


224  RU HA  IN  AH. 

session  of  eternal  joy.  They  shall  have  fruits 
and  all  their  soul's  desire.  Even  peace  as  a 
message  of  mercy  from  a  merciful  God  !  " 

Then  turning  the  dying  man's  face  toward 
Mecca,  the  priest  slowly  and  solemnly  recited  : — 

"  Every  soul  must  taste  of  death,  but  ye  shall 
be  rewarded  in  the  last  day." 

"  He  speaks  ! "  said  Bernard  as  the  old  man's 
lips  moved.  Alak  listened. 

"  Yes,  he  calls  for  Ruhainah" 

"No,"  said  the  priest.  "The  Rustum  of 
Herat  dies  as  a  faithful  Moslem  should  die. 
He  commits  the  soul  to  the  keeping  of  the 
Almighty,  his  last  words  are  '  Ar-raheem,'  'the 
Merciful.'  He  trusts  in  the  mercy  of  his  God." 

"  Peace ! "  said  the  village  doctor,  "  the  angel 
of  death  has  departed.  Abdullah  is  dead." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

LOVE'S     QUESTIONS. 

ABDULLAH  the  Rustum  of  Herat  is  dead, 
henceforth  let  all  men  acknowledge 
Alak  as  the  chief  of  Abukilla,"  said  Ahmad  the 
priest  as  he  bound  the  turban  of  the  departed 
chieftain  round  the  son's  head. 

The  body  of  the  chief,  amid  the  loud  lamen- 
tation of  his  friends,  was  borne  from  the  guest- 
house to  the  harem,  for  the  ceremonial  ablution. 

"  Stay !  "  cried  the  priest  ;  "  coffin  him  in 
his  blood,  for  is  it  not  written  the  blood  of  the 
martyr  appeareth  white  as  crystal  before  the 
throne  of  God  ?  " 

Meanwhile  Major  Bernard  retired  to  his 
upper  chamber,  and  anxiously  awaited  the 
arrival  of  Ruhainah. 

Rapping  at  the  door  Gulandamah  the  slave 
girl  said,  "  My  mistress  is  waiting  without." 
Bernard  opening  the  door  gently  beckoned  to 


226  RUHAINAH. 

Ruhainah  to  enter  as  she  stood  hesitatingly  on 
the  threshold  of  his  room. 

"  Be  seated,  Ruhainah  !  do  not  be  afraid  of 
me.  My  one  desire  is  to  be  of  service  to  you, 
my  little  rose,"  he  said,  as  he  took  her  hand 
with  warm  affection. 

Ruhainah  modestly  and  timidly  seated  her- 
self on  the  ground,  when  Bernard  tenderly  raised 
her  to  his  couch.  "  No  !  my  queen,  you  must  not 
sit  on  the  ground,  that  is  my  place,  not 
yours." 

"  How  good  and  true  he  is  !  "  whispered 
Gulandamah  who  had  never  witnessed  such 
gallantry  to  her  sex  before. 

"  Silence  !  "  said  Ruhainah,  "  this  is  not  the 
time  for  trifling! "  as  with  downcast  eyes  she 
waited  for  Bernard  to  speak. 

"  Ruhainah  !  "  he  said,  looking  tenderly  and 
speaking  most  feelingly  to  her.  "  Ruhainah ! 
you  must  realize  your  position.  The  story 
which  your  guardian  " — ("  my  father!  "  she 
said) — "  the  story  which  your  kind  protector 
told  us  is  true.  You  are  the  daughter  of  an 
English  officer,  Captain  Churton,  who  was 
killed  in  the  Cabul  war.  Your  mother  is  dead. 


LOVE'S  QUESTIONS.  227 

She  died  of  fever  in  the  city  of  Cabul.  You 
have  a  sister  living  whose  name  is  Lydia.  I 
know  your  sister.  She  took  care  of  me  during 
a  severe  illness  last  year.  She  is  in  London. 
She  is  about  six  years  older  than  you  are. 
She  is  very  beautiful  and  very  good." 

"  Oh,  it  is  all  like  a  dream,"  she  said,  as  she 
put  her  hand  to  her  head  in  a  state  of  bewil- 
derment. "  It  is  all  so  strange. Do  you 

love  my  sister  ?  " 

"  Ruhainah  !  you  ask  me  if  I  love  your  sister. 
Yes,  I  do  love  her,  but  not  as  I  love  you,"  he 
said  as  he  fondly  played  with  her  little  hands. 
"  O  Ruhainah,  I  have  never  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life  loved  anything  in  this  world 
as  I  love  you.  You  are  very  like  your  sister, 
but  you  are  more  beautiful.  Believe  me,  my 
little  bright  rose  of  the  desert,  I  love  you  as 
truly  and  as  passionately  as  it  is  possible  for  a 
man  to  love  a  woman.  I  have  seen  hundreds, 
ah !  thousands  of  beautiful  women,  but  I 
have  never  seen  any  one  so  sweet,  so  lovely 
as  you." 

Ruhainah  was  silent.  She  did  not  even  look 
at  Bernard,  but  she  nervously  seized  the  side 


228  RUHAINAH. 

of  the  couch  and  grasped  it  convulsively  as  in 
great  terror,  for  Gulandamah  had  left  and  they 
were  quite  alone. 

"  Ruhainah  !  Ruhainah  !  "  pleaded  Bernard, 
"  do  not  be  afraid  of  me,  but  speak  ?  O  !  tell 
me  do  you  really  love  me  ?  " 

"  How  many  wives  have  you  ?  "  inquired 
Ruhainah  innocently. 

Bernard  laughed.  "  My  little  dove,  we 
English  only  marry  one  wife.  But  do  tell  me 
if  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  You  know  all,"  she  softly  whispered  as  she 
placed  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and  thrust  her 
little  fingers  in  his  long  beard,  even  as  she  used 
to  do  to  her  old  Afghan  father. 

"  What  do  I  know  ?  "  he  asked  coaxingly. 

"  Why  !  Afghan  girls  of  my  position  do  not 
rush  into  the  room  of  a  man,  as  I  did  the  other 
night,  both  unveiled  and  unprotected  !  If  my 
dear  father  had  seen  me,  much  as  he  loved  me, 
he  would  have  killed  me  on  the  spot,  but 


and   she   raised  her  soft    dreamy  loving   eyes 


LOVE'S  QUESTIONS.  229 

and  fixed  them  on  Bernard  as  she  softly 
repeated,  "  Love  casteth  #//away." 

"  You  are  an  angel ! "  said  Bernard  as  he  folded 
her  in  his  strong  arms  and  covered  her  with 
kisses.  "  But  come,  Ruhainah  !  No  time  must 
be  lost.  We  must  act  at  once  ;  you  must  escape 
with  me,  for  now  the  good  old  chief  is  dead, 
neither  your  life  nor  mine  is  safe  for  a  single 
hour.  "  We  must  be  married  by  a  Moslem 
priest,  for  there  is  no  other.  Do  you  consent  to 
be  married  to  me,  Ruhainah,  when  the 
funeral  is  over  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me?  love  casteth  all away," 
she  said  as  she  clung  fondly  to  him  and  im- 
printed one  passionate  kiss  upon  his  lips.  The 
first  she  had  given  to  any  mortal  man  save 
to  her  old  Afghan  father. 

Major  Bernard  led  her  to  the  door  and 
requested  Gulandamah  the  slave  girl,  who  had 
been  listening  without,  to  call  Mullah  Ahmad 
the  priest.  He  was  soon  seated  in  Bernard's 
presence. 

"  You  know  the  secret  imparted  to  me  by 
the  dying  chieftain,"  he  said  addressing  the 
priest.  "  Ruhainah,  his  reputed  daughter,  is  an 


230  RUHAINAH. 

Englishwoman,  and  she  has  been  placed  under 
my  protection,  both  by  the  deceased  governor  of 
this  fort,  and  by  his  son,  who  succeeds  him.  I 
have  decided  to  marry  the  young  lady,  and  to 
take  her  away  from  here  as  my  wife.  Now, 
can  you,  as  a  Mohamedan  priest,  celebrate 
the  marriage  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ahmad,  "  she  is  a  true  Moslem 
and  you  are  a  Nazarene.  A  marriage  between 
a  Moslem  and  a  Nazarene  is  lawful  according 
to  our  sacred  traditions.  If  you  require  proof 
of  this  statement  I  will  go  to  the  mosque  and 
produce  written  authorities." 

"  That  is  not  necessary,"  replied  Bernard. 
"But  will  you  marry  us  after  the  funeral  of 
the  chief  is  over  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  A  fixed  dowry,  and  two  wit- 
nesses are  all  that  is  necessary — and  a.  fee,  of 
course." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Bernard,  "  that  can  be 
arranged." 


Bernard,  once  again    alone  in  his  chamber 
reclining  on  his  couch  gave  himself  up  to  reflec- 


LO  VES  QUESTIONS.  23  I 

tion  on  the  strange  and  romantic  incidents  of 
the  last  few  days.  What  prophet,  sage,  or  seer 
could  have  foretold  such  a  destiny  ?  By  the 
slaying  of  Hasan  he  had  virtually  accomplished 
the  object  of  his  mission,  and  he  was  now  about 
to  wed  a  simple  child  of  nature,  one  who  in 
every  respect,  save  the  accident  of  her  birth, 
was  an  Afghan  maiden.  Then,  for  a  few  minutes, 
his  judgment  seemed  to  reason  that  he  had 
been  most  indiscreet  in  choosing  for  a  wife  one 
who,  from  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  her  life, 
could  hardly  be  a  fit  companion  for  a  man  in 
his  position,  much  less  take  her  place  in  that 
circle  of  society  in  which  he  hoped  by  distin- 
guished service  to  figure  as  an  officer  of  high 
rank.  "  I  have  evidently  made  an  ass  of  myself," 
he  thought ;  "  what  will  the  fellows  of  my  regi- 
ment say  when  they  hear  of  it?  What  will 
government  say  ?  Why,  even  Garson  (slave  as  he 
is  to  the  influences  of  woman),  will  say  I  have 
made  a  fool  of  myself,  and  no  mistake  ! " 

Such  were  Bernard's  thoughts  as  he  surveyed 
the  situation.  But  soon  the  beautiful  features 
and  bewitching  grace  of  his  Ruhainah  rose 
before  him,  and,  as  by  a  magic  touch,  dispelled 


232  RUHAINAH. 

all  doubt.  "  That  girl  has  very  strong  indi- 
viduality of  character,  she  has  great  natural 
ability,  she  has  a  most  affectionate  nature.  What 
more  do  I  require  ?  She  is  a  true  child  of  nature^ 
and  I  can  train,  and  mold,  and  educate  her  to 
my  own  heart's  desire." 

And  Bernard  reveled  in  the  thought  of 
what  his  Ruhainah  might  become  under 
the  refining  influences  of  her  sister's  teach- 
ing. Her  strong  attachment  to  the  old 
Afghan  chief;  the  determination  with  which 
she  had  saved  him  from  the  poisoned  dish  ; 
the  resolute  manner  in  which  she  held  the 
revolver  as  she  expected  an  attack  ;  the  plucky 
way  she  had  mounted  his  charger  and  ridden 
home,  combined  with  her  natural  modesty  and 
elegant  grace  ;  had  all  a  great  fascination  for  a 
soldier  of  Bernard's  character,  and  experience. 
"  My  darling  girl ! "  he  exclaimed  to  himself, 
"  my  own  precious  treasure,  we  shall  be  very, 
very  happy  and  no  evil  genius  shall  rob  me 
for  a  moment  of  the  confidence  I  feel  in  mak- 
ing you  my  own  little  wife." 

***** 

But  Ruhainah  had  no  such  misgivings.     She 


LOME'S  QUESTIONS.  233 

felt  she  loved  Bernard  with  a  passionate  love 
such  as  her  heart  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger 
to.  She  used  to  think  she  could  never  love  any 
one  but  her  dear  old  father,  but  now  the 
foreigner  had  so  completely  taken  possession 
of  her  whole  being  that  she  could  not  even 
realize  that  her  faithful  and  loving  guardian 
was  no  more.  It  was  for  Bernard  she  had 
risked  her  honor  and  her  life,  and  now  she 
could,  without  one  single  thought  of  doubt  or 
mistrust,  give  him  her  whole  heart.  Trust  him  ? 
of  course  she  would  "trust  "  him,  although  she 
knew  absolutely  nothing  of  her  future. 

"  O  loved  one  !  "  she  exclaimed  as  she  looked 
in  the  direction  of  Bernard's  chamber,  "O  loved 
one !  I  am  but  a  poor  little  wild  flower  of 
the  desert,  but  touch  me  with  thy  wizard 
hand  and  I  will  bloom  and  blossom  for  thy 
dear  sake.  Like  a  poor  dervish  will  I  sit 
silently  at  thy  feet,  and  as  a  devoted  pilgrim 
will  I  follow  thee  to  the  world's  end.  I  am 
but  a  disciple,  but  thou  art  my  murshid ' ;  guide 
me  on  my  way.  Nay  thou  art  my  kibla  of  devo- 
tion to  which  this  poor  fluttering  heart  instinc- 
tively turns.  I  am  thine." 


234  RUHAINAH. 

***** 

Softly  and  silently  did  Ruhainah  enter  the 
chamber  of  death  where  lay  stretched  in 
rigid  stillness  the  shrouded  corpse  of  the  old 
chieftain.  Raising  the  white  sheet  which  covered 
it,  she  gazed  on  the  placid  features  of  her  faith- 
ful guardian,  and  placing  her  feverish  hand 
on  his  cold  forehead  said,  O  my  dear,  dear  old 
father,  where  in  this  world  shall  I  find  love  as 
true  as  thine  ?  How  thou  didst  play  with  me 
as  a  little  child  !  How  gently  and  lovingly  did 
those  lips  always  speak  to  me,  thou  brave  old 
warrior !  Thou  art  now  at  rest,  my  father, 

my  dear  father and  yet  they  say  thou  art 

not  my  father.  Oh  is  it  possible  that  that  arm 
killed  my  father?  Oh  no,  I  cannot  hate  thee." 
Then  raising  the  sleeve  of  his  left  arm  she 
beheld  the  scar  her  own  father  had  inflicted. 
"  O  merciful  God,  forgive  them  both  !  "  she 
said  and  raising  her  hands  in  supplication 
she  sunk  in  an  agony  of  uncontrolled  grief 
on  the  lifeless  corpse  of  the  Rustum  of 
Herat. 

"  Don't  cry,  Ruhainah !  "  said  Alak,  as  he  ap- 
proached her  and  tenderly  raised  her  from 


LOVE'S  QUESTIONS.  235 

his  father's  cot.  "  You  must  not  cry  in  this 
way.  It  is  God's  will.  Ruhainah  !  my  father 
loved  you  more  than  he  loved  any  of  us.  His 
last  dying  word  was  '  Ruhainah  ' .  " 

"  O,  Alak,"  she  said,  "  wherever  I  go  I  shall 
always  think  of  you  as  my  brother.  You  have 
been  very  kind  to  me." 

"  No,  Ruhainah  !  when  you  leave  us  you  will 
learn  to  hate  us  and  despise  us  even  as  all  your 
race  do." 

"  No,  Alak  !  I  never  shall,  nor  will  the  Major 
Sahib,  for  he  loves  your  race.  Remember, 
Alak,  the  major  risked  his  life  twice.  Once  in 
avenging  the  death  of  his  Afghan  friend,  and 
again  in  saving  me,  whom  he  regarded  simply 
as  an  Afghan  girl,  and  as  your  sister !  No, 
Alak,  my  brother !  we  shall  never  hate  nor 
despise  the  Afghans. 

"But,  O,  Alak!"  she  pleaded,  placing  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  "  O,  Alak,  do  give  up 
your  desperate  life." 

"Yes,  Ruhainah,  I  will,  if  you  will  stay  with 
us.  But  when  my  good  angel  has  departed,  the 
devil  will  have  it  all  his  own  way." 


236  RUHAINAH. 

"  But  you  will  try  to  do  better,  won't  you, 
Alak,  for  Ruhainah's  sake  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will  try.  But  remember  the  death 
of  my  father  must  be  avenged.  There  must 
be  more  bloodshed  yet." 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 

EARTH  TO   EARTH. 

THE  soiled  garments,  the  tearful  eyes,  and 
the  stealthy  steps  of  Abdullah's  house- 
hold gave  a  sombre  aspect  to  the  old  mud  fort, 
as  friends  and  neighbors  entered  the  gateway, 
in  straggling  companies,  to  attend  the  funeral 
of  the  brave  old  chieftain. 

Alak  sat  in  the  court-yard  to  receive  the 
people,  as  each  in  'turn  offered  condolence  to 
the  bereaved  son. 

"  Your  father  was  a  brave  man,"  said  a  gray- 
bearded  chieftain.  "  We  fought  together  in 
the  Cabul  war,  and  many  a  proud  foreigner  fell 
beneath  his  sword." 

"  The  Rustum  of  Herat  was  ever  ready  to 
feed  the  poor,"  said  a  poor  ragged  priest. 
"  No  one  was  ever  sent  away  empty  from  the 
gate  of  this  fort." 

"You  must  submit  to  the  will  of  God,"  said 


238  RUHAINAH. 

a  venerable  man  as  he  seized  Alak's  hand. 
"  Resignation  is  the  evidence  of  true  faith. 
We  shall  all  soon  pass  through  the  grave  to  the 
paradise  above." 

"Or  slip  over  the  bridge  Sirat,"  said  Shahbaz 
the  jester. 

"  Ah,"  said  Mullah  Ahmad  the  priest,  "  it  has 
been  well  said  in  the  Book,  'Verily,  we  are 
God's,  and  to  Him  shall  we  return.'  There 
was  not  a  more  devout  man  than  your  father 
to  be  found  in  the  Moslem  world.  Five  times 
daily  did  he  pray ;  right  truly  did  he  fast  in  the 
sacred  month  ;  he  gave  tithes  of  his  goods ;  he 
made  the  pilgrimage  to  the  sacred  city  on  foot ; 
and  now,  fortified  by  the  faith  of  Islam,  he 
will  get  easily  over  the  narrow  bridge  and 
have  a  joyful  entrance  into  the  courts  of  para- 
dise." 

"  Let  us  pray  for  the  repose  of  his  soul !  "  said 
Alak.  And  every  hand  was  raised  in  silent 
supplication. 

The  wailing  lamentations  of  the  women 
within  the  harem  intimated  that  the  time  had 
come  when  the  chieftain's  corpse  must  be  car- 
ried forth  to  burial. 


EARTH  TO  EARTH.  239 

"  Carry  the  dead  quick  to  his  grave,"  said  the 
Prophet  of  Arabia,  "  for  if  he  be  an  evil  doer 
the  sooner  you  get  rid  of  him  the  better,  and  if 
he  be  a  saint,  why  keep  him  out  of  paradise?  " 
And  so  they  bore  the  corpse  of  the  chief  of 
Abukilla  quickly  to  his  last  home.  On  a  green 
sward  outside  the  burial  ground  they  arranged 
themselves  in  five  rows  facing  the  body  of  the 
deceased,  and  Alak,  as  the  next  of  kin,  called 
out,  "  Let  the  prayers  begin." 

The  priest,  taking  his  position,  faced  the 
head  of  the  corpse,  and  in  solemn  plaintive 
strains,  recited  : — 

"  God  is  great ! 

"  O,  God,  Thou  art  holy  ! 

"  Praise  be  to  Thee  ! 

"  Great  is  Thy  name  ! 

"  Great  is  Thy  power ! 

"  Great  is  Thy  praise  ! 

"  There  is  no  God  but  Thee ! 

"  O  God,  forgive  our  living  and  our  dead, 
those  who  are  present  and  those  who  are  absent, 
our  men,  our  women,  and  our  children.  Keep 
us  all  in  the  faith  of  Islam  !  " 


240  RUHAINAH. 

Saluting  the  good  angel  on  his  right  the  priest 
said: 

"  Peace  and  mercy  be  on  thee  !  " 

And  extending  the  same  courtesy  to  the  evil 
angel  on  the  left : 

"  Peace  and  mercy  be  on  thee.  " 

"  The  prayers  are  over,"  said  Alak.  And  large 
trays  of  food  were  distributed  to  the  poor,  as 
the  friends  and  neighbors  pressed  forward  to 
offer  consolation  to  the  sorrowing  son. 

Only  a  few  of  the  deceased's  nearest  relatives 
carried  the  body  to  the  grave,  and  Alak  and 
Akbar,  the  faithful  slave,  gently  raised  the 
shrouded  figure  and  placed  it  in  the  niche  at  the 
bottom  of  the  grave. 

"  From  earth  God  created  you  and  to  earth 
does  He  call  you  back,  and  from  the  earth  will 
He  raise  you  at  the  last  day,"  exclaimed  Akbar 
the  slave  as  he  loosened  the  shroud  and  filled 
up  the  recess  which  contained  all  that  was 
mortal  of  the  Afghan  warrior. 

Bernard  stood  at  some  distance  from  the  spot, 
and  watched  the  solemn  service  with  intense 
interest.  The  service  over  and  the  grave  closed, 
Major  Bernard  accompanied  Alak  to  the 


EARTH  TO  EARTH.  241 

fort.  Having  walked  some  forty  paces  Alak 
stopped,  and  devoutly  raised  his  hands  in  prayer. 

"For  whom  are  you  praying?"  inquired  Ber- 
nard. 

"  For  the  poor  old  man,  "  whispered  Alak ; 
"  for  now  it  is  that  those  two  angels  of  fearful 
countenances  are  making  him  sit  up  in  his  grave 
and  are  putting  him  through  an  examination." 

"  Never  fear,  "  said  Bernard  with  a  sup- 
pressed smile,  "your  good  and  benevolent 
father  will  get  through  it  all  right." 

"  I  am  not  certain  of  that,"  replied  Alak 
solemnly,  "  for  I  must  tell  you  that  Abdullah  of 
Herat  had  done  many  a  dark  deed." 

"Surely,"  said  Bernard,  "his  generous  treat- 
ment of  Ruhainah  will  atone  for  a  few  mis- 
deeds." 

"Yes,  I  believe  it  will.  Ruhainah  wants  me 
to  reform  and  to  follow  in  my  father's  foot- 
steps, and  I  believe  I  shall.  The  Rustum  of 
Herat  for  many  years  lived  the  violent  life  of 
an  Afghan  soldier,  but  he  died  the  death  of  a 
martyred  saint." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

IS  IT  LAWFUL? 

THE  fort  of  Abukilla  was  no  longer  a  place 
of  safety  for  either  Bernard  or  Ruhainah. 
But  a  serious  difficulty  presented  itself.  Would 
"  Sister  Lydia,"  who  had  strict  views  regarding 
such  questions,  recognize  a  Moslem  marriage  ? 

Major  Bernard  would  have  given  much  to 
have  got  within  telegraphic  communication 
with  some  legal  authority  on  the  subject,  for 
great  as  was  his  love,  the  passionate  love  he 
bore  for  the  fair  girl  who  had  so  enslaved  his 
heart,  he  felt  how  important  it  was  for  her 
future  that  their  marriage  should  be  perfectly 
legal.  "  Sister  Lydia"  with  her  strong  religious 
feelings  would  never  forgive  him  if  it  were 
otherwise. 

To  consult  Ruhainah  on  such  a  question  was 
useless,  and  the  Moslem  priest  had  already  given 
his  legal  opinion  from  his  own  standpoint. 


7S  IT  LA  WFUL  ?  243 

"  Necessity  knows  no  law,"  said  Bernard  to 
himself,  as  he  thought  over  the  subject ;  "  it 
must  be  done ;  for,  apart  from  my  own  feelings, 
the  safety  of  one  of  my  own  countrywomen 
depends  upon  the  marriage.  Ruhainah  can 
leave  this  place  only  as  my  wife." 

"  You  say  you  can  perform  a  legal  marriage 
between  Ruhainah  and  myself?"  said  Bern- 
ard to  the  priest,  who  had  just  entered  the 
room. 

"  All  that  is  necessary,"  replied  the  learned 
man,  "  is  the  consent  of  both  parties,  a  dowry, 
and  two  witnesses." 

"  And  a.  fee  ?  I  think  you  said  ?  " 

"Yes,  and  a  fee,  that  is  an  important  consid- 
eration in  the  legality  of  a  marriage,"  said 
Ahmad  with  feigned  solemnity,  as  his  eyes 
twinkled  with  a  roguish  smile. 

As  they  were  discussing  the  subject,  Alak 
entered  the  chamber  quickly  followed  by  Ruh- 
ainah and  her  slave  girl.  Bernard  requested 
the  priest  to  proceed  with  the  ceremony 
without  delay. 

"  We  shall  require  two  witnesses  !  "  said  the 
priest. 


244  RUHAINAH. 

"  You  have  two,  here  are  Alak  and  Gulanda- 
mah,"  said  Bernard. 

"  Women  only  count  as  half,"  said  the  learned 
man.  "  There  must  be  two  women  and  one 
man." 

Alak  called  his  mother. 

"  But  this  is  not  right,"  said  the  priest.  "  Gul- 
andamah  is  a  slave  and  legally  counts  for  only 
half  a  woman." 

Alak  summoned  Akbar. 

"  But  Akbar  is  a  slave  and  only  counts  for 
half  a  man,"  said  the  priest. 

Bernard  became  impatient.  "Come,  my 
learned  friend,  I  think  you  have  enough,  how- 
ever callShahbaz  the  jester  to  make  sure." 

"Now  for  the  dowry,"  said  the  priest. 

"  With  all  my  worldly  goods  I  thee  endow," 
said  Bernard  translating  from  his  English 
prayer  book. 

"That  won't  do,"  said  the  priest.  "You  must 
mention  a  specified  sum." 

"  Put  down  the  largest  possible  sum,"  replied 
Bernard,  much  amused  at  the  priest's  persis- 
tency. 

"  Well,  then,  say  one  kintdr." 


IS  IT  LA  WFUL  ?  245 

"  How  much  is  that  ?  " 

"  The  learned  say  it  is  as  much  gold  as  you 
can  put  into  a  cowhide." 

"  She  is  worth  that,"  said  Bernard  pressing 
Ruhainah's  hand  tenderly.  "  Say  two  kintars" 

11  Do  you  consent?" 

"  I  consent !  I  consent !  I  consent !  "  repeated 
Bernard  with  such  fervor  as  excited  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  witnesses,  for  he  remembered  the 
formula  used  at  Shaidy's  wedding. 

Ruhainah  was  silent. 

"  Say,  yes,  my  little  rose,"  said  Bernard. 

"  She  is  afraid,"  said  Gulandamah,  "  she 
wants  to  say  it,  but  she  can't." 

But  Bernard  felt  she  said  it  with  her  eyes. 

"  Silence  gives  consent  by  all  the  legal  decis- 
ions of  our  law,"  said  the  priest  solemnly  ;  "  if 
you  want  authority  for  this  I  can  quote  it." 

"  Proceed,  Mullah  Ahmad,  I  am  fully  con- 
vinced of  your  probity  and  learning  in  such 
matters." 

The  priest,  turning  to  the  witnesses,  said  in 
measured  tones  : — 

"  I  declare  the  foreigner  named  Bernard,  and 
Ruhainah,  the  reputed  daughter  of  Abdullah, 


246  RUHAINAH. 

upon  whom  the  aforesaid  foreigner  has  fixed  a 
dowry  of  two  kintars,  to  be  man  and  wife. 
A  meen." 

"  Ameen  !  "  exclaimed  Gulandamah  ;  and  all 
the  witnesses  said  Ameen  ! 

11  What  next  !  "  inquired  Bernard,  observing 
that  the  priest  hesitated. 

"That  is  all  that  is  absolutely  necessary.  —  But 
let  us  pray,"  and  the  priest  raised  his  hands  in 
supplication  :— 

"  O  great  God!  grant  that  mutual  love  may 
reign  between  these  two  persons,  even  as  it  did 
exist  between  Adam  and  Eve,  and  Abraham 
and  Sarah,  Joseph  and  —  " 

"Stop,"  said  Bernard.  "With  your  permis- 
sion, reverend  sir,  we  will  finish  the  prayer  in 
London,"  and  he  placed  in  the  good  man-'s 
hand  a  liberal  fee. 

"  Anyhow,"  said  Alak,  "  you  are  man  and 
wife  and  I  give  you  my  blessing.  I  always 
thought  Ruhainah  was  too  good  for  us  wild 
Afghans." 


The  wedding  over,  Major  Bernard  at   once 


75  IT  LA  WfUL  ?  247 

proceeded  to  arrange  for  his  departure,  and  sent 
for  Nand  Ram  the  shopkeeper,  as  one  best 
acquainted  with  the  requirements  of  the 
journey. 

"  You  old  villain,"  he  said,  as  he  seized  the 
Hindu  by  the  ear,  "  you  are  of  a  truth  the 
biggest  traitor  I  have  met  even  in  this  country." 

"  Don't  say  that,  Major  Sahib,  for  did  you 
not  find  your  horse  ready  saddled  even  as  I 
promised?" 

"  True.  But  why  would  you  not  allow  me  to 
reveal  the  plot  ?  " 

"  O  honored  sir  !  what  is  more  precious  even 
to  a  Hindu  banker  than  his  life  ?  Had  I  re- 
vealed the  plot,  why  this  polluted  spirit  of  mine 
would  now  be  animating  the  foul  carcass  of  one 
of  the  lower  animals  of  creation.  A  dog  !  or  a 
donkey  !— 

"  Or  a  snake  !  "  added  Bernard. 

"  Be  grateful,  my  dear  sir,  to  your  poor 
slave,  Nand  Ram,  for  had  he  not  saddled  your 
horse  and  revealed  the  plot,  you  would  not  now 
be  in  possession  of  the  Fair  Maid  of  Herat." 

"But  you  have  sacrificed  the  life  of  your 
noble  patron." 


248  RUHAINAH. 

"  I  gave  him  a  quick  passage  to  paradise. 
Abdullah  of  Herat  had  done  many  a  violent 
deed,  but  he  died  like  a  martyr  and  was  buried 
like  a  saint ;  and  now  there  will  be  a  shrine 
erected  on  his  grave,  and  in  ages  to  come 
miracles  will  be  wrought  at  the  martyr's  tomb !  " 
And  the  old  Hindu  chuckled  as  he  contem- 
plated the  canonization  of  the  Rustum  of 
Herat ! 

"  Major  Sahib !  "  he  continued,  "  people  never 
give  Nand  Ram  credit  for  a  single  good  deed. 
But  just  you  think  of  what  I  have  accom- 
plished. Musa,  the  Sheenwaree  tyrant,  has 
been  slain  ;  the  old  sinner  who  ruled  this  fort 
has  been  made  a  martyred  saint ;  you  have  got 
possession  of  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the 
whole  country;  and  the  coffers  of  your  humble 
servant  have  been  vastly  enriched,"  and  the 
oily  old  scoundrel  placed  his  hand  upon  his 
breast,  and  bowed  with  abject  submission. 
"What  are  your  commands,  most  noble  sir?  " 

A  covered  litter  on  a  camel  was  arranged  for, 
and  the  banker  undertook  to  supply  bills  of 
credit  upon  Cabul  and  other  cities  on  the  way, 
for  he  was  well  known  in  mercantile  circles  as  a 


IS  IT  LA  WFUL  ?  249 

man  of  great  wealth.    Bernard  decided  to  start 
for  Cabul  that  very  night. 


"  Bertram !  "  for  she  had  soon  learned  his 
name,  "Bertram!"  said  Ruhainah,  "do  let  me 
visit  the  grave  of  my  father,  and  say  farewell 
to  my  little  sister  Shaidy  before  we  leave." 

"  It  is  impossible,  my  darling.  Every 
moment's  delay  is  dangerous.  And  remember, 
Ruhainah,  my  own  little  wife,  your  father's 
grave  is  in  the  Jagdalak  Pass,  and  your  sister  is 
in  London." 

"  Bertram  !  you  are  angry  with  me.  But  I 
tell' you,  I  must  then  have  two  fathers,  for 
neither  time  nor  even  your  devoted  love 
shall  ever  efface  from  my  memory  the  recol- 
lection of  my  dear  old  father,  the  Rustum  of 
Herat." 

"  Ruhainah,  my  noble  wife !  I  am  not  angry 
with  you,  and  I  will  promise  with  this  kiss  " 
(and  he  folded  her  fondly  in  his  arms),  "  I  will 
promise  henceforth  that  whatever  happens,  as 
long  as  I  live,  we  will  honor  and  revere  the 
memory  of  the  brave  old  Afghan,  who,  for 


250  RUHA1NAH. 

seventeen  years,  loved  you  with  even  more  than 
a  father's  love." 

"  Then,  Bertram,"  she  said,  looking  sweetly 
in  his  face,  "  we  shall  never  quarrel." 

"You  are  a  brave,  honest  girl,  and  I  am  quite 
certain  I  do  not  even  now  realize  what  a 
treasure  God  has  given  me." 

"  Oh,  Bertram,  I  am  so  ignorant.  But  you 
will  teach  me,  won't  you  ?  Tell  me  more  of 
God,  and  about  His  Prophet  (upon  whom  be 
peace),  and  teach  me  to  read  the  blessed 
Koran." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Bernard  to 
himself,  "  what  would  Sister  Lydia  say  to  this  ?  " 

"  Ruhainah,  my  good  little  wife,  do  you  not 
remember  that  your  dear  old  father  always 
said  he  had  dedicated  you  to  '  the  Prophet 
Jesus'?" 

"  Upon  whom  be  peace ! "  said  Ruhainah, 
shocked  at  the  careless  way  in  which  Bernard 
uttered  the  sacred  name. 

"  Now  your  Sister  Lydia  is  a  disciple  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  she  will  instruct  you  in  the  way 
more  perfectly  than  I  can." 

"  But  you  must  teach   me.     I  want  to  learn 


IS  IT  LA  WFUL  ?  251 

that  religion  which  has  made  you  so  good,  and 
so  noble,  and  so  brave,  Bertram  !  " 

"  But,  my  darling,  I  must  tell  you  that  even 
I  had  to  learn  the  road  to  God  from  Sister 
Lydia's  lips.  Ruhainah,  my  precious  treasure  ! 
I  will  teach  you  one  sentence  Sister  Lydia 
taught  me.  Now,  you  won't  forget  it,  will  you  ?  " 
And  he  gently  caressed  her  and*  smoothed  her 
beautiful  tresses. 

"  I  will  never  forget  anything  you  tell  me, 
Bertram,"  she  said,  raising  her  eyes  to  his  in 
trustful  confidence. 

"  Well,  then,  the  words  are  these,  '  We  walk 
by  faith  and  not  by  sight ' .  " 

"But  what  \%  faith?  " 

"  Ruhainah,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  you  have 
trusted  yourself  to  me,  and  I  am  now  going  to 
lead  you  forth  into  a  great  wide  world  you 
have  never  seen that  is  faith." 

"  Yes,  Bertram,  I  think  I  understand  you. 
So  will  I  trust  God." 


Having  arranged  with  Nand  Ram  for  a  spec- 
ial messenger  to  Peshawur  Major  Bernard  wrote 


252  RUHAINAH. 

a  hurried  letter  to  Captain  Garson,  the  major 
of  brigade,  explaining  that  circumstances  had 
compelled  him  to  proceed  to  Cabul  and  that  he 
would  return  to  England  by  the  way  of  Herat 
and  Meshed.  But  enclosed  was  a  more  lengthy 
note  for  Ruhainah's  sister. 

"FORT  ABUKILLA,  Jan.  26,  1860. 
"  MY  DEAR  SISTER  LYDIA,  for  I  believe  I  can 
now  claim  you  as  my  sister,  it  has  often  been 
said  that  '  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction  ' .'  I 
came  to  this  out-of-the-way  place  in  the  Afghan 
hills  expecting  an  untimely,  or  a  timely,  grave. 
But  I  have  found  a  wife  instead.  Yes,  a  wife  ! 
And  that  wife  is  none  other  than  your  sister. 
Your  father,  Captain  Churton,  was  killed  in 
the  Jagdalak  Pass  on  Jan.  12,  1842,  and  your 
dear  mother,  Lydia  Churton,  it  appears,  died 
of  fever  in  Cabul  sometime  previous.  They 
left  a  little  babe  six  months  old.  This  infant's 
life  was  saved  by  a  fine  Afghan  chieftain  named 
Abdullah.  He  took  the  child  to  Herat  and 
resided  there,  and  only  about  a  year  ago  came 
to  this  place.  It  was  here  that  I  discovered 
your  sister.  Round  her  neck  was  a  talisman 
containing  your  mother's  portrait — a  lock  of 


IS  IT  LAWFUL?  253 

auburn  hair  and  a  few  pages  from  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer,  on  one  of  which  was  written, 
evidently  by  your  father's  hand,  your  mother's 
name.  Ruhainah,  for  that  is  your  sister's  name, 
(for  I  cannot  find  that  she  has  been  baptized),  is 
a  beautiful  creature,  a  real  child  of  nature,  as 
pure  in  thought  and  life  as  the  very  mountain 
air  she  breathes. 

"  She  is  very  pretty  and  very  graceful.  She 
has  long  tresses  of  deep  auburn  hair,  the 
very  color  of  your  mother's,  the  most  capti- 
vating eyes  I  have  ever  gazed  upon,  and  her 
disposition  is  simply  lovely.  The  devotion  she 
shows  for  the  old  Afghan  chief,  whom  she  had 
for  seventeen  years  regarded  as  her  father,  is  a 
sort  of  thing. one  doesn't  meet  with  in  this 
unromantic  age.  The  poor  old  chief  is  dead, 
or  I  really  believe  Ruhainah  would  never  leave 
him,  even  for  me.  I  could  tell  you  much  more, 
but  I  have  not  time,  for  we  are  leaving  for 
Cabul  at  once.  The  whole  story  is  simply  a 
fairy  tale  written  with  God's  own  finger.  I 
know  your  first  anxiety  will  be  regarding  her 
religious  belief.  As  far  as  I  can  discover  she 
has  very  little.  The  old  chieftain  dedicated 


254  RUHAINAH. 

her,  as  he  said,  '  to  the  Prophet  Jesus,'  as  he 
used  to  speak  of  the  Saviour,  and  he  seems 
never  to  have  taught  her  anything  regarding 
his  own  religion.  Ruhainah  sends  her  salaam, 
which  is  the  Oriental  expression  for  sending 
love,  'although  it  really  means  peace.  I  will 
write  more  from  Cabul.  But  till  we  meet 
believe  me 

"  Your  truly  affectionate  brother, 

"  BERTRAM  BERNARD. 

"  P.  S.     I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we  have  been 
married  by  a  Moslem  priest.     Is  it  lawful  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XX. 

WITHOUT  THE   BENEDICTION. 


days  of  weary  travelling  —  (for 
X  Major  Bernard  had  to  regulate  his  speed 
and  that  of  his  mounted  escort  to  the  slow 
measured  steps  of  the  stately  Bactrian  drome- 
dary which  bore  in  regal  state  his  lovely  bride 
and  her  faithful  little  maid  Gulandamah)  — 
brought  them  to  Gundamak,so  celebrated  in  Af- 
ghan history  as  the  scene  of  the  last  desperate 
struggle  with  the  British  foe,  and,  still  more 
recently,  of  the  treaty  which  ushered  in  a 
fourth  Afghan  war. 

Here  were  yet  seen  the  bleached  bones  of 
the  English  soldiers  who  fell  as  the  remnant  of 
a  vanquished  army,  and  the  Afghan  captain  of 
the  escort  related  with  pardonable  pride  the 
fact  that  of  the  whole  invading  force  only  one 
Englishman  returned  to  tell  the  tale.  "  You 
call  it  murder,  and  assassination,  and  treachery  !  " 


256  RUHAINAH. 

said  the  Afghan  captain,  "  but,  sir,  you  must 
remember  that  now  we  are  an  enfeebled  and 
uncivilized  race.  But  the  traditions  of  our 
country  remind  us  of  the  glorious  deeds  of 
our  armies  when  led  by  such  generals  as 
Mahmud  of  Ghuznee  and  Ahmad  Shah.  Then 
it  was  that  we  pressed  down  upon  Hindustan 
as  conquerors  and  held  India  very  much  as  you 
do  at  the  present  time.  Our  august  master 
the  Ameer  Dost  Mohamed,  is  always  remind- 
ing us  that  when  we  become  once  more 
united  under  a  leader,  the  Afghan  people  will 
again  prove  that  they  are  a  nation  of  men. 
You  English  have  yet  to  learn  this  !  "  the  old 
warrior  said  with  great  warmth  as  he  galloped 
his  horse  over  the  ghastly  remnant  of  a  once 
victorious  army. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Bernard,  "  I  am  very 
much  of  your  opinion.  For  I  believe  there 
is  still  a  grand  destiny  in  store  for  your 
nation." 

"  The  Major  Sahib  is  almost  an  Afghan  him- 
self," exclaimed  a  voice  from  the  drapery  on  the 
dromedary. 

It   was  none   other  than  Gulandamah  who 


WITHOUT  THE  BENEDICTION.  257 

spoke,  prompted,  as  Bernard  believed,  by  the 
patriotic  Maid  of  Herat. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  Bernard  as  he 
caught  the  eye  of  his  darling  wife  peeping 
through  the  awning  of  her  somewhat  contracted 
abode  on  the  camel's  back.  "  I  am  a  real 
Afghan !  " 

Descending  to  the  bed  of  a  mountain  stream, 
the  next  day,  they  arrived  at  Jagdalak,  a  for- 
midable defile  about  two  miles  in  length  exceed- 
ingly narrow  and  closed  in  by  lofty  hills.  It 
was  here  that  seventeen  years  ago  Ruhainah's 
father  and  eleven  other  British  officers  were 
massacred  by  Afghan  soldiers. 

Remembering  the  dying  words  of  Abdullah, 
Major  Bernard  and  his  young  wife  visited  the 
Ziyarat  near  the  village,  and  there,  true  to  the 
old  man's  words,  they  found  a  solitary  grave 
some  distance  from  the  cemetery.  It  was 
covered  with  loose  pebbles,  and  across  the  grave 
had  been  hastily  thrown  a  large  oblong  slab  on 
the  face  of  which  Bernard  traced  the  faint  out- 
lines of  a  sign  of  the  cross  as  it  had  been 
roughly  and  hastily  scratched  with  some  sharp 
pointed  weapon.  Most  probably  it  was  done 


258  RUHAINAH. 

with  the  chieftain's  dagger.  Perhaps  the  very 
dagger  with  which  he  had  slain  Ruhainah's 
father.  The  grave  was  beyond  doubt  that  of 
Captain  Churton. 

"My  poor  father !"  exclaimed  Ruhainah  as  she 
stood  over  the  grave  leaning  on  Bernard's  arm. 
"  I  never  knew  him,  but  look  at  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  That  was  done  by  one  who  loved  me  as 
tenderly  as  a  mother" 

"  Yes,  Ruhainah,  the  good  old  man  undoubt- 
edly made  that  sign,  so  hateful  to  Moslems,  for 
your  sake" 

"  Let  us  pray  for  my  English  father's  soul !  " 
said  Ruhainah  as  she  raised  her  hands  in  sup- 
plication. 

"  Well !  my  dear  girl,  I  am  not  sure  that  our 
Christian  religion  allows  that  sort  of  thing.  But 
\ve  will  ask  Sister  Lydia." 

Three  more  days  of  tedious  marching  brought 
them  to  Cabul,  the  capital  of  Afghanistan,  where 
they  at  once  sought  the  hospitality  of  the 
Armenian  Christians. 

These  Armenians  occupied  quarters  in  the 
well  known  citadel,  the  Bala  Hisar,  where  they 
have  been  a  little  community  ever  since  the  days 


WITHOUT  THE  BENEDICTION.  259 

of  Nadir  Shah,  chiefly  supporting  themselves 
by  the  manufacture  of  wine  and  spirits. 

In  the  midst  of  their  crowded  dwellings,  and 
entirely  secluded  from  public  view,  was  their 
little  church,  a  sacred  edifice,  which,  although 
dedicated  to  Christian  worship,  had  escaped  the 
ravages  of  successive  Mohamedan  conquerors, 
for  amid  the  dynastic  changes  which  have  so 
frequently  occurred  the  Armenians  of  Cabul 
have  always  enjoyed  freedom  of  religious  wor- 
ship. 

Old  Marcus,  the  head  of  the  family,  received 
Bernard  and  Ruhainah  with  great  kindness  and 
affection,  for  the  little  community  had  remem- 
bered with  gratitude  the  kind  treatment  they 
had  received  from  the  British  invaders  when 
they  held  the  Cabul  capital. 

"  Yes,"  the  old  man  said,  as  Bernard  spoke  to 
him  of  the  death  of  Ruhainah's  mother,"  the  dear 
lady  died  in  this  very  room.  It  was  two  days 
after  the  massacre  of  the  British  embassy.  I 
and  my  wife,  since  dead,  were  present  at  her 
death.  Her  husband,  the  captain,  was  also 
with  us,  but  he  was  killed  a  few  weeks  after- 
ward in  the  retreat  from  Cabul.  She  was  a  good 


260  RUHAINAH. 

Christian,  sir,  and  often  prayed  in  our  little 
church.  Only  two  days  before  her  death  they 
brought  a  clergyman,  and  he  baptized  their 
little  babe. 

"Come  to  the  church,  sir,  and  I  will  show 
you  the  very  font  in  which  the  child  was 
baptized.  That  child  must  surely  be  the  lady 
I  now  see  before  me.  It  is  seventeen  years  or 
more  since  those  terrible  times." 

Bernard  and  Ruhainah  followed  Marcus  as 
he  conducted  them  to  the  church.  It  was  a 
small  vaulted  building  lighted  from  the  roof. 
The  dirty  whitewashed  walls  were  decorated 
with  numerous  colored  pictures  of  the  virgin 
and  the  saints,  and  at  the  east  end  of  the  sanc- 
tuary was  a  small  altar  covered  with  a  richly 
embroidered  cloth  worked,  as  Marcus  as- 
sured them,  by  the  ladies  of  his  family.  On 
the  altar  was  placed  a  high  wooden  cross  and 
six  gilt  candlesticks.  Suspended  over  the 
altar  was  a  bright  red  lamp  still  burning  even 
at  noonday.  Before  the  altar  were  offerings 
of  flowers,  sweetmeats,  and  talismans,  pre- 
sented by  the  women,  some  of  whom  were  still 
prostrating  in  the  act  of  devotion. 


WI THO  UT  THE  BENEDICTION.  2  6 1 

"  Look  here ! "  whispered  Marcus,  not  to 
disturb  the  prayers  of  the  devout,  "  look  here, 
sir,  this  is  the  font  in  which  Captain  Churton's 
little  girl  was  baptized,"  and  he  showed  them 
a  rudely  carved  stone  basin  in  a  deep  recess  on 
the  south  side  of  the  building. 

"  Did  the  chaplain  leave  any  written  record 
of  the  baptism?"  inquired  Bernard. 

"Yes,  he  wrote  something  in  our  service- 
book,  but  as  none  of  us  can  read  English  we  do 
not  understand  it." 

Bernard  opened  the  old  missal,  a  precious 
relict  of  Armenian  caligraphy  (for  it  had  been 
written  by  a  scribe  on  Mount  Ararat  in  the 
early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century),  and  on 
the  last  fly-leaf  he  read  : — 

"  I  herewith  certify  that  I  baptized  Christina, 
the   infant   daughter   of    Edward    and    Lydia 
Churton,  this  23rd  day  of  December,  1841. 
"A.  F.  GOODMAN, 
"  Chaplain  to  the  forces." 

"  December  23rd  !  "  said  Bernard,  "  why, 
that  was  the  day  of  the  assassination  of  the 
embassy;  and  Ruhainah's  mother  died  on 
Christmas  Day." 


262  RUHAINAH. 

Then  Ruhainah  was  not  a  Moslem,  but  a 
baptized  Christian,  and  the  marriage  of  two 
Christians  by  a  Mohamedan  priest  could  by 
no  possibility  be  a  legal  marriage.  After 
all,  he  and  Ruhainah  were  not  really  man  and 
wife! 

"  Marcus,  have  you  any  Armenian  priest  in 
Cabul?  " 

"  No,"  said  Marcus,  "  we  have  not  had  a 
priest  in  Cabul  for  fifty  years.  The  last  time 
the  blessed  sacrament  was  celebrated  in  this 
church  was  by  Joseph  Wolf,  the  missionary. 
A  very  remarkable  man  was  the  l  Great  Yusuf, 
as  we  still  call  him." 

"  Then  how  do  you  get  married?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  all  right,"  replied  Marcus, 
"  I  went  to  Persia  some  years  ago  and 
the  archbishop  of  Julfa  ordained  me  deacon, 
so  I  can  perform  the  marriages  of  our  people." 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  Bernard,  "  you  are 
the  very  man  we  want.  You  must  marry  me 
to  Ruhainah  at  once,  for  we  have  only  been 
married  by  a  Mohamedan  priest,  and  now 
it  is  certain  that  Ruhainah  is  a  Christian, 
I  am  afraid  our  marriage  is  not  lawful." 


WITHOUT  THE  BENEDICTION,  263 

"  Sir,  I  can  celebrate  your  marriage  any  hour 
you  wish,  but  as  a  deacon  I  cannot  give  the 
benediction,"  said  Marcus,  very  solemnly. 

"Oh,  never  mind  the  benediction,  friend 
Marcus,  but  for  heaven's  sake  marry  us  as  soon 
as  you  can,  for  what  will  her  sister  say  ?  " 

The  service  was  long  and  tedious.  Not  a 
single  word  of  it  was  understood  by  either 
bride  or  bridegroom.  But  there,  close  to  the 
very  spot  where,  seventeen  years  ago,  Chris- 
tina Churton  had  been  baptized  into  the  Chris- 
tian church,  she  was  now,  after  an  eventful  life, 
united  in  the  bonds  of  holy  wedlock.  As  they 
rose  from  their  knees  "  without  the  benediction," 
Bernard  kissed  his  wife  and  said,  "  After  all, 
the  good  old  chieftain  was  right,  for  here  it 
was  that  you  were  dedicated  to  the  prophet 
Jesus." 

"Yes,"  said  Ruhainah,  "I  am  a  Christian,  it 
is  true,  but,  Bertram,  you  must  teach  me.  I 
am  the  Tdlib  and  you  are  my  Mursliid,  Let  the 
disciple  learn  at  the  feet  of  her  guide" 

"No,  my  own  precious  little  darling,  I  am  as 
ignorant  as  you  are.  But  your  sister  has  often 
peeped  through  the  golden  gates,  and  she,  if 


264  RUHAINAH. 

anyone  can,  will  guide  you  on  your  way  to 
heaven." 


Major  Bernard  was  received  very  graciously 
by  the  Ameer,  but  requested  to  make  his  stay 
as  short  as  possible.  "  The  strong  feeling  of 
antipathy  to  the  English  race  still  exists 
among  my  people,  and  I  do  not  consider 
your  life  safe  in  this  city,"  said  his  highness 
at  a  private  interview.  And  even  old  Marcus 
advised  them  to  hasten  their  departure,  for  he 
had  heard  that  Ruhainah's  position  as  the  wife 
of  .an  English  officer  had  already  awakened 
great  interest  and  curiosity  among  the  Cabul 
princes,  for  the  far  famed  beauty  of  the  myste- 
rious Maid  of  Herat  had  often  been  the  subject 
of  idle  gossip  at  the  Cabul  court. 

But,  before  they  left  the  city,  Bernard  request- 
ed Marcus  to  conduct  them  to  the  Armenian 
cemetery,  so  that  Ruhainah  might  visit  her 
mother's  grave.  The  little  cemetery  was  sadly 
neglected  and  still  bore  evidences  of  recent 
desecration,  for  the  crosses  on  the  gravestones 
had,  without  one  single  exception,  been  de- 


WITHOUT  THE  BENEDICTION.  265 

stroyed  by  fanatical  Afghans.  The  grave  of 
Lydia  Churton  was  unmarked  save  by  a  low 
mound  of  earth,  but  it  was  next  to  that  of 
Georgius,  the  priest,  who  had  died  fifty  years 
ago,  and  Marcus  remembered  the  spot. 

"Ah,  madam!"  he  said,  addressing  Ruhainah, 
"  it  was  a  sad  gloomy  day  when  we  placed  your 
dear  mother  in  this  grave.  We  buried  her  by 
torch-light  as  the  drums  beat  the  alarm,  for  the 
city  was  in  open  rebellion." 

"  Was  my  father  present  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  No,  he  could  not  stay  ;  there  were  only  four 
of  us  here.  There  was  not  one  of  her  own  race 
to  shed  a  tear  over  her  grave  at  her  burial !  Ah  ! 
those  were  indeed  terrible  times  for  the  English. 
The  Lord  God  of  battles  forsook  your  hosts  and 
you  were  scattered  like  sheep,"  he  said,  address- 
ing Bernard. 

"  My  poor  mother !  "  said  Ruhainah,  kneeling 
by  the  grave,  "  if  no  tears  were  shed  over  your 
grave  then,  a  daughter  has  lived  to  drop  one 
now.  Oh  may  the  compassionate  and  merciful 
God  help  you  !" 

"You  are  but  a  small  community,"  said  Ber- 
nard, addressing  Marcus. 


266  RUHAINAH. 

"  Very  small ;  not  more  than  thirty  souls. 
But  we  are  treated  kindly,  for  the  Ameer's  son, 
Azim,  has  married  one  of  our  Armenian  daugh- 
ters." 

"  Has  she  embraced  Islam  ?  " 

"  No,  she  is  still  a  Christian." 

"  Bertram!"  said  Ruhainah,  placing  her  hand 
lovingly  on  his  shoulder,  "  tell  me,  are  there 
many  Christians  in  England?" 

"  Yes,  my  little  rose,  I  believe  there  are, 
and,  thank  God,  there  are  no  Mohamedans." 

"  How  bitterly  you  speak  of  the  Moslems. 
Will  no  Mohamedans  go  to  Heaven?" 

"  Darling !  you  really  must  not  ask  me  such 
questions.  I  know  more  of  Afghan  poetry 
than  I  do  of  Christian  theology,  but  we  will  ask 
your  sister." 

"  Oh  Bertram !  I  wish  you  could  tell  me,  for, 
do  you  know,  I  can  never  be  happy  in  Heaven 
if  my  dear  father,  the  Rustum  of  Herat,  is  not 
there." 

Bernard  smiled  at  her  childish  simplicity  and 
fondly  kissed  her. 

"  Bertram,  listen  !  "  she  said,  looking  straight 
into  his  eyes  with  determination,  "you  are  now 


WITHOUT  THE  BENEDICTION.  267 

going  to  take  me  into  a  new  country  and 
among  a  strange  people,  but  you  must  never 
ask  me  to  forget  the  old  Afghan  chieftain,"  and 
she  rested  her  head  fondly  against  him  and 
dropped  a  silent  tear. 

"  Ruhainah,  it  is  indeed  true  that  you  are 
entering  on  a  new  existence,  and  so  am  I,  but 
always  remember  this,  my  sweet  little  rose  of 
the  desert,  that  when  I  first  loved  you  it  was 
not  as  Christina,  the  child  of  an  English  cap- 
tain, but  as  Ruhainah,  the  daughter  of  an 
Afghan  chief." 


M 


THE   CONCLUSION. 

Y  story  is  told.  For  the  life  of  Ruhainah,  as 
an  Afghan  maiden,  belongs  to  history, 
while  that  of  Christina  Bernard,  as  an  English 
lady,  must  not  yet  be  written. 

Do  you  ask  how  I  became  possessed  with 
such  a  narrative  ? 

I  will  tell  you. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1876,  that  I  was  seated 
under  an  old  yew  tree  in  the  pretty  village 
churchyard  of  Brankling,  in  the  south  of 
England,  sketching  its  quaint  old  church,  when 
a  fine,  handsome  man,  some  sixty  years  of  age, 
with  a  military  bearing,  entered  the  church- 
yard. His  wife,  a  lady  of  remarkable  grace  and 
beauty,  but  evidently  some  years  younger, 
rested  fondly  on  his  arm,  as  they  passed  along 
the  gravelled  walk  to  a  little  child's  grave  on 
the  south  side  of  the  church. 

The  lady  knelt  at  the  grave,  and  seemed  to 
engage  in  silent  prayer.  Then  rising,  she  took 


THE  CONCLUSION.  269 

from  her  husband  a  wreath  of  primroses,  and 
gently  and  lovingly  placed  it  on  the  white 
marble  cross. 

When  they  left  the  churchyard,  I  went  to 
the  old  sexton,  who  was  digging  a  grave  close 
by,  and  inquired  who  the  visitors  were. 

"  Why,  them  be  Sir  Bertram  Bernard  and  his 
lady.  Very  first  rate  folks,  sir.  Lor'  bless  your 
soul !  they  was  mighty  fond  of  that  ere  child,  sir. 
Why,  it  be  just  sixteen  year  come  next  May 
since  I  buried  him  in  this  very  spot.  But  when- 
ever Sir  Bertram  and  his  lady  visits  this  here 
place  they  comes  to  this  youngster's  grave,  and 
puts  a  lot  of  flowers  on  it,  and  they  always 
gives  me  a  sovereign  for  a  taking  a  care  of  it. 

"  Look  here,  just  you  look  here,"  the  old  man 
said,  passing  over  to  the  little  grave,  "  did  you 
ever  in  the  whole  course  of  your  life  see  such  an 
outlandish  name  as  that?"  and  he  pointed  to 
the  cross  on  which  I  read  : 

ABDULLAH, 

THE  BELOVED  SON 
OF 

CHRISTINA  AND  BERTRAM  BERNARD. 


270  RU HA  IN  AH. 

"Abdullah  !  Just  think  of  that  new  fangled 
name!  But  it  be  just  like  these  gentry  folks, 
sir.  They  be  all  giving  up  all  our  good  old 
English  names,  and  taking  to  the  French.  My 
name  is  John,  sir,  and  so  was  my  father's  before 
me.  There's  no  nonsense  in  a  name  like  mine. 
'Scuse  me,  sir,  but  the  rector's  a  coming." 

As  the  clergyman  came  up  the  pathway,  I 
raised  my  hat,  and  inquired  who  Sir  Bertram 
Bernard  was. 

"  He  is  one  of  our  most  distinguished  offi- 
cers," replied  the  rector.  "  He  is  now  a  member 
of  the  Indian  Council,  and  people  say,  but  one 
never  knows  the  truth  of  such  stories,  that  Lady 
Bernard  is  the  inspiring  genius  of  Lord  Bea- 
consfield's  Afghan  policy :  and  that  it  was  Sir 
Bertram  who  suggested  the  '  Scientific  Frontier.' 
Lady  Bernard  is  known  as  one  of  the  most 
lovely  and  fascinating  women  in  London 
society.  If  you  want  to  hear  Lady  Bernard's 
story,  you  must  step  into  the  rectory,  for  you 
see  I  am  not  a  young  man,  and  I  feel  the 
cold." 

The  rector,  who  was  a  genial  old  gentleman, 
took  me  into  his  snug  little  study,  and  there  by 


THE  CONCLUSION.  271 

a  bright  fire  told  me  the  interesting  narrative  of 
"Ruhainah,  the  Maid  of  Herat." 

"  I  know  the  whole  country,"  he  said,  "  for  I 
was  an  ensign  in  the  Afghan  war." 

"  I  thought  only  one  Englishman,  Dr.  Bry- 
den,  lived  to  tell  the  tale,  and  all  the  rest  were 
massacred  ?  " 

"  No,  there  were  about  eighteen  officers  and 
ladies  held  as  hostages,  and  I  was  one  of  them. 
Having  fought  my  country's  battles,  I  went  to 
Oxford  and  entered  a  higher  service." 

"  Have  Sir  Bertram  and  his  wife  received 
tidings  of  Alak?  " 

'•  Yes,  the  poor  fellow  was  shot  in  the 
Khyber." 

"And  what  became  of  the  sweet  little 
Shaidy?" 

"  She  eloped  with  Yusuf,  and  they  were  both 
slain  by  the  enraged  husband." 

"And  Gulandamah,  the  little  slave  girl?" 

"  She,  of  course,  obtained  her  freedom  from 
her  mistress  before  they  parted.  She  became 
the  favorite  wife  of  the  commander-in-chief  of 
the  Afghan  army,  who  had  been  himself  a 
slave." 


272  RUHAINAH. 

"  And  is  '  Sister  Lydia '  living  ? '  " 

"  Yes,  for  some  years  she  devoted  herself  to 
the  education  of  her  sister,  and  especially  to 
her  religious  instruction." 

"But  I  understood  you  to  say  Lady  Bernard 
was  a  lady  of  fashion  ?  " 

"  I  said  her  ladyship  was  lovely  and  fascina- 
ting, but  these  qualities  are  surely  not  incom- 
patible with  true  piety." 


THE  END. 


CASSELL'S  "RAINBOW"  SERIES. 


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"  It  is  safe  to  say  that  few  readers  who  have  perused  the  first  chapter,  will  be  con- 
tent to  lay  the  book  down  without  finishing  it." — Christian  Union,  New  York. 

"  The  working  out  of  so  strange  and  abnormal  a  plot  without  any  descent  into  mere 
grotesqueness  is  a  triumph  of  art." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  It  is  vivid  without  floridness,  dreamy  without  sentiment,  exciting  without  being 
sensational." — The  Critic,  New  York. 

"  We  can  earnestly  advise  all  readers  who  care  for  a  novel  showing  individuality, 
power  and  thought,  to  read  As  IT  WAS  WRITTEN." — Brooklyn  Union. 

"  To  Sidney  Luska  we  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  charming  us  with  a  powerful 
story." — Jewish  Messenger,  New  York. 

"  The  book  is  certain  to  be  read  with  interest,  and  to  raise  at  least  its  little  ripple  of 
talk  and  criticism  as  being  out  of  the  common  run  of  the  works  of  the  day. — Boston 
Courier. 

"  A  capital  novel.  ...  It  cannot  fail  to  impress  itself  as  an  able  and  moving 
dramatic  effort." — New  York  Times. 

"  The  wearied  reader  of  fiction  who  opens  this  book  has  in  store  for  himself  a 
genuine  sensation." — Palladium,  New  Haven. 

"  Of  all  the  novels  that  have  come  to  us  this  season,  As  IT  WAS  WRITTEN  seems  the 
most  likely  to  take  a  permanent  place  in  literature.  We  hope  to  hear  from  Sidney 
Luska  again." — Yale  Courant. 

"  A  remarkable  prose  composition,  created  out  of  intense  feeling  and  imagination, 
and  powerfully  affecting  those  of  others,  and  bears  the  mark  of  genius." — Boston 
Globe. 

"  We  have  seen  no  book  of  late  years  to  which  the  term  absorbing  in  interest  could 
more  appropriately  be  applied." — Boston  Herald. 

"  One  of  the  most  powerful  novels  of  the  year." — St.  Louis  Republican. 

"  It  stands  apart  from  the  average  novel,  soon  invites  attention  and  then  rivets  it. 
.  .  .  Will  doubtless  be  extensively  read." — New  York  Telegram. 

"  A  work  of  thrilling  interest  that  exercises  an  enthralling  influence  over  the  imagi- 
nation. For  sustained  power  it  occupies  an  unique  position  among  the  novels  of  the 
year." — Daily  Chronicle. 

FOR  SALE  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 

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HAVE    YOU    READ 


The  New  American  Novel 

TRAJAN. 

The   History   of  a   Sentimental    Young    Man, 

with  some  Episodes  in   the    Comedy   of 

many   Lives    Errors. 

By  HENRY   F.  KEENAN. 

The  story  is  of  international  interest.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Paris 
during  the  exciting  days  that  ushered  in  the  Commune,  and  while 
many  real  persons  figure  among  the  characters,  the  plot  hovers 
round  a  group  of  Americans,  thrown  together  by  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  hour. 


"  Among  the  new  novels  of  the  season, 
i>lr.  Henry  F.  Keenan's  *  Trajan  '  must 
be  promptly  accorded  the  first  place." — 
New  York  Herald. 

"It  is  much  the  best  novel  that  has  ap- 
peared for  years  in  the  English  or  any 
other  language." — Phila.  Evening  Bul- 
letin. 


"  '  Trajan  *  is  a  classic,  a  real  gem 
plucked  from  the  mass  of  rubbish  with 
which  the  bookstores  are  crowded." — 
Boston  Times. 

"  Every  careful  bibliographer  of  the 
2cth  century  ought  to  mention  '  Trajan ' 
as  a  novel  to  be  read  for  scenes  of  the 
igth  century  in  Paris  and  New  York." — 
Hartford  Post. 


E.  C.  Stedman  pronounces  "Trajan"  : 
"Graphic  and  spirited.  .  .  .  Which 
no  one  can  read  without  interest,  and 
which  renders  a  welcome  -ertain  for  the 
future  productions  of  its  author." 

Hjalmar  H.  Boyesen  writes  :  "An 
exceptionally  brilliant  novel.  It  is  as 
clever  in  description  as  it  is  vigorous  in 
characterization." 


H.  H.  Furness,  the  famous  Shakes- 
pearean scholar,  says  :  "  I  like  *  Trajan,* 
first,  for  the  delightful  way  the  author 
has  given  the  very  atmosphere  cf  that 
May  afternoon  in  Paris!  Its  sights  are 
in  my  eyes ;  its  sounds  are  in  my  ears, 
and  its  very  smells  are  in  my  nostrils.  No 
picture  of  Meissonier's  can  be  more 
faithful." 


1  Vol.,  12mo.    65O  Pages.    Price,  $1.5O. 


FOR  SALE  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 

CASSELL    &    COMPANY,   Limited. 

*      739  and  741  Broadway,  New  York. 


'  THE  BAR-SINISTER'  SHOULD  DO  FOR  MORMONISM  WHAT  '  UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN' 
DID  FOR  SLAVERY." — Newport  News. 


THE   BAR-SINISTER, 

A  Social  Study. 


i  VOLUME,  I2MO.,  360  PAGES,  EXTRA  CLOTH.    PRICE,       -      $1.25 


"It  is  not  saying  too  much  to  declare  that  THE  BAR-SINISTER  deserves  to  rant 
among  the  very  few  good  American  novels  of  an  unusually  unproductive  season.'' 
Christian  Union. 

"  THE  BAR-SINISTER  is  a  novel  which  will  attract  more  than  ordinary  attention.  The 
text  is  Mormonism,  the  bar-sinister  on  the  escutcheon  of  this  great  republic.  The 
characters  introduced  are  every-day  people.  The  hero,  a  New  York  business  man, 
who  goes  to  Salt  Lake  City  with  his  wife  and  baby,  and  who  falls  a  victim  to  the 
enticements  of  the'  saints.1  " — Christian  at  Work. 

"A  well-constructed  story,  that  is  developed  by  a  plot  to  a  strong  finale,  in  good 
literary  form  and  with  a  pleasing  literary  style,  and  that  will  be  read  with  the  greatest 
interest  and  feeling — indeed,  it  has  the  power  to  inflame  public  opinion  as  no  other 
book  with  its  purpose  has  ever  done." — Boston  Globe. 

"  One  of  the  most  powerfully  written  books  of  the  season. — Lawrence  American. 
"  It  is  the  best  novel  of  the  summer." — Examiner,  New  York. 

"  It  is  a  powerful  book,  written  with  great  force  and  earnestness,  and  in  a  picturesque 
style  that  vigorously  emphasizes  the  scenes  and  characters  amid  which  the  story  moves. 
It  is  not  at  all  sensational,  but  is,  nevertheless,  marked  by  strong  dramatic  interest  and 
a  frank  and  sincere  sympathy  for  those  who  suffer  under  the  iniquities  of  Mormon 
rule." — Boston  Gazette. 

"  THE  BAR-SINISTER  is  certain  to  leave  an  impression,  and  a  profound  impression 
wherever  it  is  read.  It  may  do  more  ;  it  may,  if  its  success  is  at  all  commensurate 
with  its  power,  strike  a  telling  blow  at  the  evil  in  Utah." — Brooklyn  Daily  Times. 

"  The  story  is  so  interesting  that  when  once  begun  it  is  not  willingly  relinquished 
until  the  end  of  the  book  is  reached.  As  *  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  '  played  its  part  in  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  so  will  stories  like  THE  BAR-SINISTER  aid  in  settling  the  Mormon 
question." — San  Francisco  Daily  Report. 

"  A  masterly  hand  has  been  at  work  on  these  pages  and  the  author  knows  whereof 
they  write." — Baltimore  Christian  Observer. 

FOR  SALE  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 

CASSELL    &    COMPANY,   Limited. 

f      739  and  741  Broadway,  New  York. 


"  A  REAL  LITERARY  GEM." — St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat, 

AT  LOVE'S  EXTREMES. 

BY  MAURICE  THOMPSON, 
Author  of  "  A  TALLAHASSE  GIRL,"  "  SONGS  OF  FAIR  WEATHER,"  etc. 


I  VOL..  I2mo.,  CLOTH.     PRICE        -        .        .        $1.00. 


The  scene  of  the  story  is  laid  in  the  mountains  of  Alabama  ;  it  is  a 
thoroughly  American  tale,  as  strong  as  it  is  picturesque. 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

The  story  is  a  very  strong  one,  with  picturesque  sketching,  effective  dramatic  situa- 
tions, and  most  admirable  character  drawing. — Boston  Home  Journal. 

The  interest  is  sustained  to  the  close,  and  the  reader  is  little  likely  to  lay  the  book 
down  unfinished. — Boston  Courier. 

It  is  bright  with  descriptions  of  scenes,  and  spicy  with  mountaineer  dialect.  .  .  . 
The  style  is  charming  and  this  new  work  of  fiction  will  be  read  widely  and  with  pleas- 
ure.— St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

There  is  an  undertone  to  the  book  that  is  indescribably  charming. — Hartford  Even- 
ing Post. 

A  delightful  story,  elegantly  designed,  and  told  in  the  most  interesting  manner. — 
Press,  Albany. 

Crisp  and  fresh  in  style,  and  the.  story  is  told  with  animation. — Brooklyn  Daily 
Times. 

The  attractive  setting,  the  general  color,  and  the  excellence  of  parts  of  the  action 
make  the  novel  a  very  strong  one. — Boston  Globe. 

Its  delineations  of  characters  are  masterpieces  .  .  .  and  the  interest  is  so  well 
sustained  that  one  is  reluctant  to  lay  aside  the  book  until  it  is  finished. — Portland 
Globe. 

The  author  has  blended  the  beautiful  and  romantic  in  graceful  thought  which 
charms  and  entertains  the  reader.  —Southern  Agriculturist. 

There  is  no  more  graceful  writer  in  the  country  than  Mr.  Thompson.  The  word 
elegance  fitly  describes  his  style,  and  whenever  he  turns  out  a  piece  of  literary  work  it 
is  always  complete.  Each  sentence  is  finely  polished  and  every  chapter  thoroughly 
finished.  In  the  present  volume  he  deals  with  life  in  the  mountains  of  Alabama,  and 
describes  most  happily  its  people  and  scenery.  His  story  is  unconventional  and  well 
told. — Baltimore  A  merican. 

"  At  Love's  Extremes"  is  full  of  passionate  fire  and  human  nature  under  the 
influence  of  intense  feeling. —  Troy  Daily  Times. 

FOR  SALE  BY  ALL  BOOKSELLERS. 

CASSELL    &    COMPANY,    Limited. 

739  and  741  Broadway,  New  York. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR   OF   "THE   BAR   SINISTER.' 


WITHOUT   BLEMISH. 

TO-DAY'S    PROBLEM.      By  MRS.   J.    H.   WALWORTH.     i  vol.,    i2mo, 
extra  cloth.     Price,  $1.25. 

"  The  author  in  this  volume  deals  with  a  vital  subject.  While  her 
book  has  a  moral  purpose,  it  is  not  a  dry  dissertation,  but  is  full  of 
dramatic  action  and  thrilling  incident." 

"  It  takes  vip  one  of  the  social  problems  of  the  day,  and  is  well  and 
thoughtfully  written.  The  writer  has  lived  in  the  South  among  the 
scenes  she  depicts,  and  so  they  are  life-like  and  vivid." — The  Keynote. 


ADAM  HEPBURN'S  VOW. 

A  Tale  of   Kirk  and  Covenant.     By  ANNIE  S.  SWAN.     121110,    extra 
cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

"  The  scene  of  this  story  is  laid  during  the  stirring  times  of  the  Scot- 
tish Covenanters,  and  holds  the  attention  of  the  reader  from  the  first 
chapter  to  the  end." 


BY  FIRE  AND  SWORD. 

A  Story  of  the  Huguenots.     By  THOMAS  ARCHER,     i  vol.,  I2mo,  extra 
cloth.     Price,  $1.00. 


NO.  XIII.;  Or,  THE  STORY  of  the  LOST  TESTAL. 

A   Tale  of  the  early  Christian  days.     By  EMMA.  MARSHALL,     i  vol., 
I2mo,  extra  cloth.     Price,   $r.oo. 

"Emma  Marshall  counts  her  readers  by  the  thousands.  Ancient 
Rome  is  the  scene  of  the  story,  and  the  ancient  Romans  are  the  dramatis 
person*. " 

CASSELL  &  COMPANY,  Limited, 

739  and  741  Broadway,  New  York. 


BY   THE   AUTHOR  OF    "AS   IT  WAS   WRITTEN." 

MRS.    PEIXADA. 

By  SIDNEY  LUSKA.     ivol.,i6mo.     Price  $1.00. 

"  The  story  begins  with  the  very  first  page,  and  there  is  no  let  up  till 
the  end  is  reached.  Mr.  Luska  has  the  happy  faculty  of  holding  his 
readers'  attention  through  every  page  of  his  books.  '  Mrs.  Peixada  '  is 
a  sensational  story,  the  plot  of  which  is  most  ingeniously  worked  out, 
and  the  end  is  as  great  a  surprise  to  the  reader  as  it  was  to  those  who 
were  searching  for  the  murderer  of  Mr.  Peixada.  Mr.  Luska's  style  is 
so  different  from  that  of  the  modern  novelist  that  he  has  his  field  almost 
entirely  to  himself,  and  he  is  working  it  with  all  the  skill  of  a  good  hus- 
bandman." 


RUHAINAH. 

A  Story  of  Afghan  Life.     By  EVAN  STANTON.     i   vol.,   i6mo,  extra 
cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

"  This  new  romance  of  Afghan  life  is  by  a  new  novelist  but  an  old 
writer,  who. has  spent  several  years  among  the  people  whom  he  describes 
in  such  vivid  colors." 

Almost  every  incident  in  the  narrative  is  founded  on  fact  ;  and  the 
little  volume,  while  it  contains  an  exciting  love-story,  full  of  the  most 
graphic  incidents,  gives  the  most  trustworthy  details  of  the  religion,  the 
manners,  and  the  social  customs  of  that  remarkable  race  who,  in  the 
days  of  Mahmud  of  Ghuznee,  conquered  Hindustan,  and  who,  in  more 
recent  times,  have  so  successfully  resisted  the  invading  armies  of  Great 
Britain.  A  people  who,  believing  themselves  to  be  the  children  of 
Israel,  and  possessing,  as  they  do,  the  vigor  and  prowess  of  a  manly 
race,  are  in  the  opinion  of  the  author  yet  destined  to  play  an  important 
part  in  the  world's  history. 


THE  VICAR'S   PEOPLE. 

f 

By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN,  author  of  "Sweet  Mace,"  "Poverty  Corner," 
"  The  Parson  o'  Dumford,"  &c.,  &c.  I  vol.,  I2mo,  extra  cloth  (new 
style).  Price,  $1.00. 

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11  A  LITERARY  ENTERPRISE  UNIQUE  IN  THE  ANNALS  OF  PUBLISHING." 


CASSELL'S  NATIONAL  LIBRARY. 

EDITED  BY  PROF.  HENRY  MORLEY.  LL.D. 
A  series  of  weekly  volumes,  each  containing  about  200  pages,  clear, 
readable  print,  on  good  paper,  at  the  low  price  of 

TEN    CENTS    PER    VOLUME. 


SUBSCRIPTION  PRICE  PER  YEAR  (52  NUMBERS)  $5.00. 
ALSO  IN  CLOTH  EXTRA.     PRICE,  25  CTS.  PER  VOLUME. 


isrcrw 

I— My  Ten  Years'  Imprisonment.   By  SILVIO  PELLICO. 
2-Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage.    By  LORD  BYRON. 
3— The  Autobiography  of  Benjamin  Franklin. 

4— The  Complete  Angler.     By  ISAAC  WALTON. 
5— The  Man  Of  Feeling.     BY  HENRY  MACKENZIE. 
6— The  School  for  Scandal  and  the  Rivals.    By  RICHARD  BRINS- 
LEY  SHERIDAN. 

7— Sermons  on  the  Card,  and   other   Discourses.    By 

BISHOP  LATIMER. 

8— Plutarch's  Lives  of  Alexander  and  Caesar. 
9— Castle  of  Otranto.  Z 

I  O— Voyages  and  Travels.     By  SIR  JOHN  MANDEVILLE. 

I  I -She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  and  The  Good-Matured  Man. 

By  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 

IlsT    ZPTE^IESS- 

The  AdventureSOfBarOn  Trenck.     Translated  from  the  German  by 
THOMAS  HOLCROFT. 

She  Wisdom  of  The  Ancients.    By  LORD  BACON. 
atural   History  Of  SelbOrne.     By  GILBERT  WHITE. 
The  Lady  Of  the  Lake.    By  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

Travels  In  the  Interior  of  Africa.   ByMuNcoPARK. 

The  History  Of  Egypt.     By  HERODOTUS. 

A  Voyage  Round  the  World.    By  LORD  ANSON. 

Selected  Voyages.     From  RICHARD  HAKLUYT'S  COLLECTION. 

The  Christian  Year.    ByjoHNKEBLE. 

Selected  Philosophical  Writings.    By  LORD  BOLINGBROKE. 
Table-Talk*     By  MARTIN  LUTHER. 

Thoughts  on  The  Present  Discontents.   By  EDMUND  BURKE. 
The  History  of  Europe  During  the  Middle  Ages.    B>-  HKNKY 

HALLAM. 

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WSwi 


